


Unexpected

by Missyhissy3



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-02 03:37:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14535792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missyhissy3/pseuds/Missyhissy3
Summary: Angst and Maquis secrets-  JC story featuring other members of the crew at various points.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: the characters are obviously not mine.
> 
> First posted in 2015 on fanfiction.net
> 
> AN: This story grew out of a prompt northernexposure sent me that I'll post at the end. Big thank you to her for beta reading this and for the prompt itself, and to Photogirl1890 for her invaluable post-messing typo check.

Alternative ending to 'Natural Law', Season 7.

 

Unexpected

"Report!" barks the Captain, as the ship finally stops rocking.

"They haven't detected us, Captain," Ensign Kim replies. "This nebula is too dense. But that last volley took out the shields and there's severe damage to lower decks where it hit. The Ledosians hit us with pretty much every weapon they had in their entire planetary defence arsenal as we left orbit."

"Is the _Delta Flyer_ back on board?"

"Yes, and Tom is on his way to sickbay to stand in for the Doc. He went off line during the last attack."

"And engineering?"

"No change yet. I can't get into any systems at all down there and I'm still trying to shut the core down remotely. Engineering was evacuated when we detected the breach, but Tuvok reports that Chakotay and B'Elanna are still inside. His teams are standing by."

"Janeway to Chakotay."

" _Go ahead, Captain_." The channel is full of static and his voice is barely audible on the bridge.

"Why are you and B'Elanna still _in_ there!" Janeway shouts over the red alert klaxons.

" _We mistimed it. We rolled for the doors, but- it doesn't matter now. There's no way you'll shut the core down remotely. There's nothing left to interface with – all the controls are fried. I'll have to do it manually_."

"Get engineering on the main viewer, Harry," the Captain orders briskly.

Chakotay goes on, " _We need to get B'Elanna out right now. She cracked her head against the doors. She's out cold and the radiation levels are rising fast_."

He can be seen on the viewscreen propping B'Elanna up against the main doors; then he heads back to a workstation.

" _I'm setting up a forcefield just inside the door. This console is the only one still functioning. Tell Seven to link bridge controls to it and enhance the forcefield. That'll contain the radiation long enough for Tuvok's team to lift the emergency doors and get B'Elanna out_."

"Harry, how long have we got?" Janeway demands.

"The radiation is interfering with internal sensors in there," Kim reports urgently. "Based on the last readings I have, there can't be more than eight minutes until the core breaches. Radiation will be beyond safe tolerance levels way before that though– six minutes max."

"You have five minutes, Chakotay," Janeway warns. "And we need to know the radiation levels in there now!"

Before he has time to reply, Seven begins firing instructions at him. Janeway takes a step back and watches on the screen as Chakotay's fingers fly over the control panel.

"Reinforcements complete, Captain," Seven announces.

" _It's working!"_ Chakotay shouts. " _It should hold, Captain. Get those doors up now!"_

Kathryn is just about to comm Tuvok to give the order when B'Elanna's voice cuts in.

" _Chakotay!_ "

Janeway looks back to the viewscreen. B'Elanna's dragging herself to her feet, shouting at Chakotay from the other side of the forcefield.

" _What the hell..."_

" _They're getting you out_ ," Chakotay tells her, his eyes never leaving the console.

" _Are you crazy?_ " She reaches towards him and her fingers come into contact with the forcefield. " _Drop this damn forcefield now so I can shut down the core_."

 _"You hit your head. You're going to sickbay."_ His eyes still don't leave the control panel.

_"I'm fine. You need me to do this."_

_"No. I need you out of here now."_

B'Elanna slaps her combadge and yells, _"Captain! Talk some sense into him. I'm fine. I can do it twice as fast as he can and he knows it. He isn't even familiar with the new protocols – we only finished installing them this morning!"_

"Chakotay, I-" Janeway begins.

He looks up. _"We don't have_ time _for this! Get her out of here now!"_ he bellows. _"Radiation levels are rising. If you don't do it soon they'll be too high even for Seven's Borg-enhanced forcefield to contain."_

_"Damn it, Chakotay, I'm the chief engineer!"_

_"Yes, you are. But you're injured. And you're also Tom's wife and you're soon to be a mother. You're indispensable."_

_"And you're not?"_

_"I'm the first officer of this ship and I'm_ ordering _you to get yourself through that door the second it goes up, Lieutenant."_

" _Listen to me-"_

" _This isn't a debate, B'Elanna."_

_"Captain, tell him-"_

_"The Captain agrees with me."_

"Get out of there now, B'Elanna!" Janeway shouts over the static. "Chakotay has time to shut it down."

" _But-"_

" _Damn it, B'Elanna - I swear I'll knock you out again myself if I have to."_

" _This is madness!"_

Janeway watches him leave the console and move right up to the forcefield so he and B'Elanna are face to face. His voice drops to a level that is barely audible on the bridge.

" _It'll be all right,"_ he insists, regaining his calm. _"The Captain can talk me through the new manual protocols. You need to get to sickbay to check the baby is OK."_

B'Elanna holds his gaze. Then her eyes drop to her pregnant belly before they close for a moment.

Janeway gives Tuvok the order. As she watches the emergency doors go up, she's barely able to breathe lest something goes wrong and the entire deck ends up flooded with radiation. Immediately the emergency doors recede into the bulkhead, Tuvok and Ayala can be seen on the viewscreen guiding the unsteady B'Elanna out.

"The forcefield is successfully containing the radiation, Captain," Seven reports.

Janeway's head snaps round. "Harry, go down to sickbay and get the Doctor back online somehow."

"Aye, Captain," Harry calls, already halfway to the turbolift.

"Commander, we have less than 5 minutes now." Janeway takes a deep breath.

She opens a ship-wide channel. "All hands, this is the Captain. Get to the escape pods and prepare to abandon ship. Wait on my final order before launch."

Then she looks back to the viewscreen. "Chakotay, I've ordered the crew to stand by at the escape pods."

" _Understood. But it's unlikely the pods would have time to clear the kickback from a core breach even if you launched them now."_

"I know."

" _I'm into the systems. Talk me through the new procedure."_

"The first sequence is unchanged. By the time you've completed it, I'll be down there." She turns to her protégé. "Seven, find a way to enhance that forcefield to hold back twice that level of radiation, in case it keeps on rising. And work on a way to get Chakotay out of there once he's shut down the core."

"I will try. But I must warn you, Captain, it is unlikely I will succeed in enhancing the forcefield much further."

"Try."

"Yes, Captain."

XxX

Deck 11

As she rounds the corner at a run, Janeway is met with the sight of Lieutenant Ayala, now clad in an environmental suit, and Tuvok scanning engineering with a tricorder.

Her order arrives a little in advance of her. "Report!"

"The forcefield is stable, Captain," the Vulcan replies. "The small amount of radiation that leaked into this section when Lieutenant Torres exited is within tolerance levels. But I am unable to scan inside engineering due to both the forcefield and the radiation. The Commander will have to monitor the situation himself while he works."

"And?"

"He has yet to provide us with that information."

Janeway moves level with the forcefield. Chakotay is still leaning over the workstation nearest to the door.

"Chakotay, how long before the core breaches and what's the radiation level now?"

"Just under four minutes," he replies without looking up. "I've completed the initial stage, now I need the new protocols."

She takes him through the short new sequence and he enters it swiftly. "We can't scan in there, Chakotay. What are the radiation levels now?"

"The final commands, Captain!" he shouts.

She finishes the instructions.

Twice he has to ask her to repeat, and she can see him fighting to maintain his focus, sweat dripping into his line of vision as he enters the sequence.

Then Seven's voice cuts over the comm.. " _Seven to the Captain_."

"Go ahead, Seven."

" _I have successfully established a stable interface with the partially functioning console Chakotay is using. Radiation levels are continuing to rise. They exceeded maximum exposure levels recommended for humans 0.4 minutes after Lieutenant Torres was evacuated_."

"Damn it! I knew it!" Janeway shouts at no one and anyone.

Chakotay continues working. Several interminably long seconds later he turns towards the doors and shouts, "It's done. The manual shutdown is complete."

Janeway closes her eyes for a heartbeat, then they snap open again and she focuses on Chakotay.

"I want those levels _now_ , Commander. We need proof the core shutdown was successful and that they're starting to drop so we can lift this forcefield and get you out," she shouts over the static-ridden comm link.

She watches as Chakotay braces himself on the console.

"Chakotay," she barks. "Can you still hear me?"

He gives his head a shake, rubs a hand across his face and mumbles something unintelligible in reply.

"Commander Chakotay! _Listen to me_. You need to tell me what the radiation level is now."

He doesn't reply, and his eyelids droop suspiciously.

"Seven!" she barks, "the radiation-"

Seven cuts in immediately. " _Radiation levels are now falling, Captain. Chakotay succeeded in shutting down the core. The procedure is complete. At their current rate of decrease, in 5.8 minutes levels will be low enough for Lieutenant Ayala to go in and retrieve the Commander."_

"That's far too long, Seven! Can't we transport him out before then?"

As Kathryn watches, all of a sudden Chakotay's legs seem to give way, and he crashes to the floor like a felled tree.

"Oh God," she gasps. "Get up!" she shouts. "Chakotay! Do you hear me! Get up now, Commander, that's an order!"

Chakotay pushes up from the floor onto all fours. Then, with dogged determination, he claws his way up the panel towards the controls.

" _No Captain,"_ Seven replies. _"A transport would not be successful."_

Janeway turns to Tuvok, eyes wild. "Tuvok, you and I need to get off this deck immediately. Then Ayala can lift the forcefield and get-"

Tuvok steps in front of her and is opening his mouth to interject when suddenly another voice beats him to it.

_"Torres to Janeway. Captain, I can do it!"_

"B'Elanna? Are you-"

_"I'll be fine, Captain, and the Doctor says the baby will be fine too. We've been listening in for the last few minutes. I can do it from here."_

"Do what? Transport him out?"

" _Yes. As soon as the level drops below 4.5 thousand units I can transport him out of there."_

"Safely? _How_?" Kathryn looks down, pinches the bridge of her nose and inhales deeply. "Actually, maybe it's better I don't know the details of whatever Maquis manoeuver you're about to use that'd get us both court martialled one day. Just tell me it'll work."

_"Well, if I screw up it'll kill him, but if we wait much longer he'll be dead already anyway."_

"Seven, how long until the radiation drops to 4.5 thousand?"

" _3.1 minutes."_

"That's still too long," Janeway snaps back.

" _You are correct, Captain,"_ the ex-Borg confirms. _"In approximately one minute Commander Chakotay will have been exposed for a period of time in excess of the amount documented as eventually fatal to humans."_

" _Damn it Seven, it's still better than leaving him in there for another six minutes almost!"_ B'Elanna cuts in again. _"We have to try, Captain!"_

"Do it, B'Elanna. Do whatever you can."

Tuvok silently withdraws from the position he had adopted between Janeway and the entrance to engineering.

Kathryn turns back to face her first officer.

"Hang on, Chakotay. We're going to get you out of there," she tells him, although it's doubtful he hears her, as he is sitting slumped against the wall, arms loose at his sides, eyes closed. However, a beat later his eyes open again and he turns his head towards her.

"B'Elanna is going to transport you out," Janeway tells him, her calm expression belying the pounding of her heart.

"She's OK?"

"She's fine. You got her out less than a minute before the radiation would have harmed her and the baby."

"Thanks for backing me up."

"It was the right call."

"Seems she still doesn't have much faith in my engineering ability."

"Well, she'll have to change her tune now."

"Guess so."

"How do you feel?"

"Hot," he replies, leaning forward so he can manoeuver himself out of his jacket and turtle neck. Then he rests back against the wall again. "And a little shaky. My head is pounding."

Tuvok and Ayala retreat a few paces down the corridor and confer over a control panel in the wall.

"Just another two minutes now," Kathryn tells Chakotay.

He nods.

She moves to lean against the wall close to the forcefield, suddenly feeling the need for support.

"Tuvok is probably going to relieve me of duty after this."

"Why?"

"I got halfway through ordering him to open the doors just now."

"Glad you listened to him. He has his uses."

"He does."

Kathryn just watches Chakotay for a moment. Then his head lolls forward suspiciously.

"Don't go falling asleep on me, Chakotay. You know you need to stay awake."

He holds his head up again. "Understood."

"We'll get you to sickbay soon. Then you can rest all you like."

"Sounds good."

He coughs and shifts position again to sit with his long legs stretched out in front of him and turns his face towards her. "When I woke up in that Ventu cave this morning, I can't say I expected I'd be sitting here less than twelve hours later."

"You've had a tough few days." She manages a weak smile to accompany her understatement.

"Tell Seven I'm sorry, but it looks like I'll have to take a rain check for tomorrow night."

Kathryn's mind goes blank for a split second. "You can tell her yourself when we get you out of there," she forces unconvincingly.

He coughs again, this time the convulsions wrack his broad frame and as they subside his eyelids droop again.

"Hey! Stay with me Chakotay," Janeway orders. _Keep him talking. Keep him conscious._ "So, what plans did you have with Seven?"

"The Doc told B'Elanna she's got to quit hoverball 'til after the baby comes -"

He's cut off by the shudders of another racking cough. Immediately Kathryn shifts away from the wall to kneel opposite him and her hand reaches out instinctively towards the forcefield.

Once he's regained enough breath he goes on, "Think Seven felt sorry for me – for losing my partner for my 'insufficient amount of regular exercise' – so she offered to take me on."

Kathryn clasps her hands in front of her body to still them. "Well I wish you luck. You'll need it." She turns and allows her back to slide down the wall until she's sitting, knees bent up, with only the forcefield between them. "I'm amazed she still finds me a challenging enough opponent at velocity these days."

"I'm not. I'd bet on you any day."

She turns her head towards him, grateful he's still talking.

"It's quite a while since we last played. I'm not as fit as I was then."

"Maybe so," his eyes close again as he's speaking, "but I'd still put odds on you."

He looks so flushed now, and he's scratching at his arms. Just watching him in this condition makes Kathryn feel as if she's crawling out of her own skin, and she shifts uncomfortably.

"Not much longer now," she reassures him softly, willing Seven or B'Elanna to contact them. Another few seconds pass and Kathryn can't just keep on waiting.

"Seven, report!"

" _I was conferring with Lieutenant Torres, Captain. The levels have now dropped sufficiently for her to attempt transpo-."_

" _Tell Chakotay to stand by, Captain. I'm on it,"_ B'Elanna cuts in, sounding more than a little agitated.

Kathryn gets up off the floor immediately.

"B'Elanna's ready, Chakotay," she tells him. "Any second now and you'll be in sickbay."

He doesn't reply. His eyes have closed and he appears to have finally lost consciousness. Kathryn holds her breath as a heartbeat later he dematerialises, slowly – very, very slowly. Probably far too slowly.

"Doctor, do you have him?" she asks, as the last of Chakotay's molecules finally disappear, before anyone has had the time to report.

" _Yes, Captain. We have him. Lieutenant Torres's unorthodox transport seems to have been successful. I'm beginning my assessment now."_

"Very good, Doctor. I'll be there soon. Janeway out."

She knows she needs to follow Tuvok to the bridge immediately, but for several seconds Kathryn leans back against the cool metal of the bulkhead. She closes her eyes, willing the wild beating of her heart to slow, and just breathes.

[TBC]

 


	2. Chapter 2

Sickbay

The doors open and the Captain enters, immediately scanning sickbay for her first officer. As she takes in the curtains drawn around the surgical bay on the far side of the room, a spasm of nausea causes her empty stomach to lurch.

To her right, she feels the Doctor's eyes on her. Kathryn is still running on adrenaline. Every minute of the past few hours of industrious clamour on the bridge has been taken up with seeing to _Voyager_ 's immediate and pressing needs, as repairs to critical systems begin. Now, Kathryn lifts her chin to steel herself against the conversation about the human aftermath of this emergency that has been quietly awaiting her here.

Seconds after the Captain meets his gaze the Doctor moves out from B'Elanna's bedside, blocking Kathryn's view of the far end of sickbay. He greets her and guides her to where her chief engineer's heavily pregnant form lies apparently sleeping on the first biobed, her uniform exchanged for medical robes and her bump covered by a blue medical blanket.

"How's B'Elanna doing now?" Janeway begins.

"She's doing well, Captain," the hologram replies, his tone encouraging. "I've sedated her as she'll need bed-rest for at least another seventy-two hours while we continue to monitor her, then light duties only for several more days, but she'll make a full recovery. She was evacuated just before the radiation rose to the level where tissue damage is irreversible."

The twist in Kathryn's gut tightens. "And the baby?"

"Her unborn child was more challenging to treat, as even in the third trimester of pregnancy babies still in the womb are more vulnerable to the harmful effects of radiation than adults. But I've successfully managed to reverse the small amount of tissue damage that had occurred."

"Excellent work, Doctor."

"B'Elanna was very lucky, Captain."

"I know." Kathryn suppresses a spark of something akin to frustration. "I realise that if she'd been in there any longer, the story would've been quite different."

"Indeed it would. And we have Chakotay to thank for that."

"Yes. We do." Kathryn inhales quickly, forcing her attention back to the Doctor.

"The Commander was wise to insist Lieutenant Torres leave when she did," he continues. "She was still none too happy about it when I began treating her, but, once she understood the situation, she calmed down considerably. After that, while I was attempting to treat her, she spent her energy trying to persuade Mr Kim to transfer me to engineering in order to take over from Commander Chakotay."

"I see." Kathryn massages the rigid muscles in her neck with one hand as she forces herself to take this in and formulate a reply. "I doubt your program would have been able to function in there."

"Exactly!" the hologram replies, suddenly animated. "Mr Kim insisted it was futile, and in any case, B'Elanna and the baby desperately needed my skills here."

Janeway's hand falls to her side and she doesn't reply. The Doctor takes this as his cue to move on and he gestures towards the surgical bay. As Kathryn makes her way slowly across the room, he overtakes her and slides the curtain back a little to reveal the scene within.

Kathryn stops as soon as she sees Chakotay even though she is still a few paces away. His eyes are closed and he's naked from the waist up, his lower body covered by a blue medical sheet. Tom Paris is standing beside the control panel that is attached to the bed. He looks up briefly, nods to her, and continues working.

Taking a deep breath, Kathryn struggles not to immediately avert her eyes from the sight of her first officer lying there vulnerable and exposed. When she does look at him, however, a flicker of hope ignites in her chest despite everything.

His skin still has more colour than usual; his face and arms are a deeper bronze and she can almost convince herself it's nothing more than the same summer hue his skin took on during their short period of exile and outdoor living years ago. And lying there, his face in repose, he looks no worse than he's looked in this exact same spot in the aftermath of any number of eventful away missions over the past seven years.

The Doctor hovers beside her patiently as the seconds pass.

If no one breaks the silence and she keeps at this safe distance, then the unexpected illusion of health before her is able to endure... She can just go on believing that Chakotay's fine, that he's going to recover just as B'Elanna will, that he…

She swallows hard. Because she's the Captain, and she can't allow herself to indulge in illusion, she finally voices the enquiry she knows is required of her. "What's Chakotay's condition?"

"After Lieutenant Torres was evacuated, the radiation level must have risen extremely fast," the Doctor explains quietly. Turning to face Janeway, he hesitates slightly before continuing. "Chakotay is in the first stage of acute radiation sickness. I have been able to alleviate the external symptoms, although the results are largely cosmetic and likely to be short lived. But I'm afraid the progression of the disease is inevitable."

His voice softens further. "I'm so sorry to have to confirm what I suspect you already know, Captain. Chakotay's injuries go beyond the scope of what is treatable. I can keep him comfortable, but the damage caused by the radiation to his internal organs – his cardiovascular and central nervous system in particular – is just too severe and too extensive."

Janeway's hand instinctively goes to her mouth and she almost succeeds in swallowing the tiny involuntary sound that escapes. She takes two small steps back and turns away towards the other side of the room again, looking to the floor.

Following her, the Doctor continues, his concern evident by the earnest tone he adopts. "I will of course review again _every piece_ of data we have in the Federation database on treating acute radiation sickness."

"What about using Seven's nanoprobes?" Kathryn asks.

"Seven's nanoprobes were only effective in the treatment of low-level radiation exposure. They were able to reverse much of the damage done to the inhabitants of the planet where we found the Terran space probe, because the majority of their injuries were to external layers of tissue. The procedure was necessarily less invasive."

Kathryn is about to interject but the Doctor seems to anticipate her question.

"The situation with Chakotay is very different, Captain," he goes on. "His close proximity to the warp core when it was about to breach means he was exposed to incredibly high levels of radiation which were consequently able to penetrate far deeper. However, I'm pursuing this avenue of research already in the hope that I may yet have a breakthrough."

Hope. He said hope. Something to cling to and cling to it Kathryn will. Her expression must reflect this, because the Doctor continues quickly, appearing decidedly more uncomfortable.

"However, I don't want to create false hope, Captain. You'll remember the results of my research after our success in reviving Mr Neelix. In every simulation I ran on human casualties with severe injuries the nanoprobes completely overwhelmed the subject's own systems. And in Chakotay's case, we would need to use such _vast numbers_ of nanoprobes that it would be impossible to limit the scope of their integration into his body. It's also very unlikely the Commander of all people would agree to a procedure that was likely to leave him more Borg than human. But I will of course continue to try to modify Seven's nanoprobes further."

"Very good, Doctor," Kathryn manages. "Keep me informed."

"Of course, Captain." He nods. "And... the crew? What would you suggest we tell members of the crew who wish to visit the Commander?"

"Is there any medical reason why they shouldn't?"

"No. He's susceptible to infection, but I can easily take the necessary precautions. I was hesitating only because I know the Commander is a private man. I thought it best to ask your advice."

Kathryn doesn't want to give advice. She wants to leave and never have to listen to the Doctor confirm the stuff of her nightmares in the unforgiving light of sickbay ever again. It's simply too much.

The Doctor must have overlooked something. Surely Seven can come up with some new Borg miracle, or the Doctor himself can extend the frontiers of medical science yet again? Something. Anything. Not this. _Not this._

She tries to focus. The Doctor is waiting, clearly hanging on her next words, on her assessment of the situation. So she inhales sharply, attempting to flip some internal switch to autopilot.

"How has he been since he was transported here? Were you able to explain his condition to him?"

"I'm afraid he was... confused and incoherent, Captain."

The Doctor starts towards the surgical bay again. Kathryn does not follow. The physician begins to give his detailed report – a report he's clearly been waiting to produce for her.

"He regained consciousness as soon as he was transported here and he vomited. As you would already have noticed in engineering, his skin was already showing the effects of exposure, particularly on his face and upper body where he'd removed his clothing. In addition to that he was running a high fever."

The Doctor turns to find the Captain still rooted to the spot and he quickly retraces his steps to join her again before continuing.

"I erected a forcefield and sedated him while I disposed of his contaminated clothing and I've cleansed his skin to remove all external residues and treated the skin lesions. I've given him anti-emetics to control the vomiting and I've administered pain relief, of course. It's possible he'll regain consciousness for a few hours when he enters the latent stage – at that point he might be able to let us know his wishes regarding visitors. But this phase is likely to be very short lived given the intensity of the radiation he was exposed to. It's only a matter of time before he'll be in organ failure."

Kathryn swallows, her throat constricted and dry. "How much time?" she asks, her voice a dry rasp.

"The Commander is strong, and he was in good health, but, even taking those factors into consideration, it's unlikely he will survive more than a few days. A week perhaps, at the most…" he trails off as his gaze alights on her face.

Eyes full, Kathryn blinks and her fingers come up immediately to wipe away the evidence of her distress even as it overflows onto her cheeks.

The Doctor looks stricken. "I'm so sorry, Captain. Believe me, I do realise how terribly difficult this must be for you." He turns towards the surgical bay again. "Mr Paris can continue to monitor Chakotay remotely from my office if you'd like some privacy - if you'd like to stay and sit with the Commander for a while."

"No," she blurts out, avoiding his concerned expression. "Thank you, Doctor. I need to get back to the bridge. Until engineering has been made safe and propulsion is back on line the ship is still at yellow alert."

"Very good, Captain. I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

"No need, Doctor. Unless there's anything else, I must go."

"Only that I would like Lieutenant Paris to assist me until I can discharge B'Elanna. That way he can continue with the routine care of both my patients while I devote time to reviewing my research and the medical databases.

"Of course, Doctor. Use whatever personnel you need."

"Thank you, Captain."

XxX

A few minutes later, Kathryn steps out onto the bridge. Tuvok makes his report on the progress of the repairs as she takes her seat. Her well-trained and professional bridge crew carry on working with quiet efficiency around her. Tuvok effectively continues in command, since Kathryn does nothing but sit, motionless, with a white-knuckled hold on her captain's chair.

For an eternity she just stares at the wisps and swirls of the dense crimson and sapphire nebula on the viewscreen, completely unable to formulate a single coherent thought, let alone an order.

[TBC]


	3. Chapter 3

Kathryn finally finds herself outside sickbay again forty-eight hours later. Her feet almost refused to carry her off the 'lift when it stopped at deck five, but she's here now.

She's been in twice since the emergency. Both times B'Elanna was sleeping, and both times Kathryn's made it as far as the Doctor's office to hear his reports, but she still hasn't managed to persuade those same treacherous feet to carry her any closer to her first officer's bedside.

The Doctor insists he's making progress with his research, but admits that he still hasn't been able to overcome the original problem. If he uses the nanoprobes to repair the damage to Chakotay's internal organs, there's no way to limit their invasion throughout his entire body.

This time, when the Captain enters sickbay, she finds the back of B'Elanna's bed tilted up and B'Elanna awake, propped up with pillows, holding a PADD. The engineer sets it down immediately when she sees Kathryn.

"Captain."

"How are you feeling, B'Elanna?"

"Much better already, thanks."

"I'm so glad."

"Captain, I'm sorry-"

Kathryn holds up her hand. "There's no need."

"No, there is. I'm so sorry-"

Kathryn presses her hand firmly over B'Elanna's. "None of this was your fault, B'Elanna. You must know that?"

"You don't understand. It _was_ my fault. I misjudged it."

"Under that sort of pressure we all misjudge things sometimes. And even if you hadn't, it wouldn't have changed anything. What matters is that you and the baby are safe."

"But if I hadn't been so damn determined to prove I could still do my job right up to my due date, then maybe this wouldn't have happened at all."

"You _did_ do your job, B'Elanna," the Captain reassures. "And no one could have stopped this happening."

"No, Captain, I didn't," the younger woman goes on, insistent. "I didn't even manage to do something any first year academy cadet can do. I almost got _stuck_ under the emergency doors! I didn't make allowances for this," her hand swishes dismissively over her pregnant bump. "I forgot how _slow_ I am now, how _fat_ I am… That's why I mistimed the roll for the doors. If Chakotay hadn't hung back and grabbed me when I fell, he'd have gotten out. And then I'd have been able to shut the core down faster. None of this needed to happen."

Kathryn supresses a sigh. She suspects B'Elanna may have had the conversation several times over already with Tom.

"We can't be sure of that. It's just as likely you'd have been trapped in there for as long as Chakotay was – or probably longer – since who would have been there to beam you out?"

B'Elanna doesn't answer. It seems likely to Kathryn that she isn't the first person to point this out. "Harry still doesn't understand exactly how you managed to get Chakotay's pattern safely out of there the way you did. As soon as you're well enough, we need you to add it to the handbook alongside your skeletal lock – for emergency use only."

"Of course, Captain. And as soon as the Doc lets me out of here I'd like to get back to whatever work I can still do."

"He said you'll need a few days of light duties, and obviously you can't go near deck eleven until the radiation level is back to normal, but there's no reason you can't assist the Doctor and Seven with their attempts to re-programme the nanoprobes."

"As soon as I'm allowed out of this bed I will – after I've sat with Chakotay a while."

At the mention of his name, Kathryn's gaze strays towards the other side of sickbay. Tom Paris comes out from behind the curtain and, as he exits, she's afforded a snapshot of the scene within.

Kathryn can't see her first officer, because Lieutenant Ayala's and Crewman Dalby's large forms completely fill the small area around the bed. They're both perched on stools at Chakotay's bedside. Chakotay's medicine wheel has been attached to the curtain and there's a roughly woven beige blanket draped over part of the bed.

Tom is about to draw the curtain again when he sees the Captain and he hesitates, holding it back. He raises his eyebrows and quirks his head to ask if she's on her way over. The smallest shake of her head instructs him that she isn't and he pulls the curtain back into place.

Kathryn takes her leave from B'Elanna and, as she walks away, Tom appears and intercepts her.

"Captain."

"How's Chakotay?" she asks, her fingernails digging deep into the flesh of her balled fist.

"Still unconscious."

Kathryn feels Tom's eyes on her face as he goes on.

"I hope it's OK that I've let people come sit with him. I asked the Doc and he didn't seem too clear on what we should do about visitors."

Kathryn is momentarily blind-sided by the surge of guilt that causes her bruised heart to drag for a beat. "I'm sure you're handling the situation well," she manages. "What does B'Elanna think Chakotay would want?"

"She... um, well, she didn't say exactly."

Kathryn suspects B'Elanna said a great deal, but clearly nothing that Tom wants to pass on.

"I'm sorry if you and the Doctor have become unofficial gate keepers. I hope it hasn't been too difficult."

"It hasn't. Don't worry, Captain." Then Tom hesitates for a second. "It was… hard, telling those two," he nods back towards the surgical bay. "They were first to come yesterday, and I won't lie - I nearly bailed and called the Doc back from his research."

"I'm so sorry, Tom-" Kathryn begins, closing her eyes for a beat and shaking her head.

"It's all right," he reassures quickly. "After I'd told them, word filtered through the ship, and everyone who's been since already knows the score. And the only person I had to turn away was someone who was obviously drunk and kind of… hysterical. I told her she could come back when she's sober."

"I see. Well, thank you. And I see someone brought some of Chakotay's things – that's very thoughtful."

"Yeah. Neelix set up the medicine wheel. He's been in a couple of times to sit and 'chat'. Says he thinks Chakotay can hear us on some level." Tom sounds sceptical. "And Seven brought the blanket – she assured me it's been 'thoroughly decontaminated'."

"I can't imagine it needed much decontamination," Kathryn adds quietly. "Chakotay's quarters are always immaculate."

"It's not his," Tom qualifies. "She said it was given to her by the Ventu girl she saved on the planet. Seven thought Chakotay would like it."

"That's kind of her."

"And Tuvok came by early this morning. The Doc said he just stood there for over an hour in silence, saying a Vulcan prayer."

Suddenly unable to speak, Kathryn swallows and just nods.

A moment passes between them in heavy silence before Tom speaks again. "The Doc says if he's going to regain consciousness, it'll be soon. But that phase probably won't last very long – a few hours only."

Janeway nods again, breathing deeply.

"Do you want us to call you immediately if he does?"

"Keep me informed, yes. Thank you, Tom," she replies quickly, and then she leaves.

XxX

Kathryn is busy working with Vorik in engineering when the Doctor contacts her. She downs tools and takes a few steps away from the young Vulcan for some privacy.

"Go ahead, Doctor."

_"Chakotay has regained consciousness, Captain. He understands his prognosis_ ," the Doctor pauses for a beat. _"He's actually sitting up at the moment and Mr Paris is helping him shave."_

"Thank you for letting me know, Doctor."

_"Shall I tell him to expect you?"_

"I'll be up as soon as we're finished here."

" _Very good, Captain."_

Vorik is unaware of the Doctor's news and so he continues to expect the Captain's complete involvement in their task. Kathryn is unspeakably grateful for the twist of fate that has her working with a Vulcan right now. Vorik does not make eye contact, asks no questions, and appears utterly absorbed in the work.

Another half hour elapses and they still haven't finished.

She should go. She really should go, right now…

But she can't seem to detach herself from the never-ending supply of distraction. After all, it's important, she tells herself. There's still a hell of a lot to do and with B'Elanna in sickbay and Seven splitting her time between engineering and assisting the Doctor with his research, Kathryn's expertise is most definitely needed.

When her combadge chirps again what must be at least an hour later, it startles her. It's Tom Paris this time.

Once more she moves to a discreet distance from her Vulcan engineer.

"Go ahead."

" _I just wanted to let you know that Chakotay says anyone who wants to visit is welcome now or even later, when he's… Well, later."_

"Thank you, Tom."

" _I told him you'd been down to sickbay regularly. He seemed pleased to hear it."_

Kathryn's head pounds. She wonders if Tom has any idea how much that statement conceals, or if Tom just presumes she's been to see Chakotay when he's been off duty.

" _It'd be a good idea to come down soon, Captain,"_ Tom continues carefully. _"He's pretty weak and I don't know how much longer he'll be awake. There's no one else here right now."_

"Yes, thank you, Tom," she replies, closing the channel before he has a chance to say anything else.

XxX

Ten minutes later and Kathryn is in the turbolift heading for deck five. When the doors open she sees the ghost of Lieutenant Ayala at the end of the corridor heading towards sickbay, and she finds she can't follow, she just can't...

She stops and leans against the familiar solidity of one of _Voyager's_ bulkheads, closing her eyes, grateful there is no one else there.

Within seconds she finds herself changing direction completely and heading for the science lab. She'll call in there first, to see if any progress has been made since this morning, then she'll go to sickbay.

XxX

Seven greets her and immediately updates her on the progress of their work. She seems subdued. She says that even though they've made advances in the level of sophistication of the programming they're able to input into the nanoprobes, they've been struggling because of the lack of data about the exact conditions Chakotay was exposed to. The only operational workstations in engineering were damaged and internal sensors were only partially functioning. This information is essential, Seven explains, in the precision programming of the nanoprobes.

Kathryn listens, forcing herself to concentrate on the complex details. It still seems like a hopeless endeavour, but she is immeasurably grateful that neither Seven nor the Doctor has suggested they give up.

Seven's report is slightly harder to follow than usual because she seems uncharacteristically unfocussed – she actually repeats herself at one point. Then Janeway remembers that the Doctor has expressed concern about Seven, given her present workload.

"You seem tired, Seven," Kathryn observes, seeing that something is clouding her protégés usually serene features. "Have you regenerated recently?"

The look on Seven's face at her question makes an answer redundant.

"You really shouldn't miss your cycle." Kathryn rebukes gently. "We need you at your best."

"I'm sorry if my work has been unsatisfactory."

"Your work has been exemplary, as ever, Seven. I'm just worried about you."

"Your concern is unnecessary Captain. I am fine."

"Even so, I'd like you to regenerate immediately you're finished here."

"Very well," Seven acquiesces, surprisingly readily. Placing the PADD in her hand down onto the nearest console, she turns to face her mentor. "I'm finding this situation… difficult, Captain."

Kathryn closes her eyes for a second and exhales. "That's to be expected, Seven. We all are."

"I'm angry with Commander Chakotay."

"Why?"

"I've just returned from visiting him now that he has regained consciousness."

"I'm sorry if you found it distressing."

"I find his attitude frustrating."

"His attitude?"

"The Doctor explained to him the progress we have made. I asked Chakotay whether he would agree to undergo the procedure if we succeed in modifying the nanoprobes further. He said no."

"Well, we always knew it was unlikely he'd agree," Kathryn sighs.

"I believed he would change his mind, given the lack of alternative treatments."

"Well, that alone probably isn't enough."

"I find his decision perplexing. Even if we make the progress we hope to, it seems it will all be for nothing, since he won't agree to the treatment."

"Chakotay is a man of strongly held principles. We have to respect that."

"He's stubborn. And infuriating."

"Well, yes. He can be. In any case, I'm sure he's very grateful for all the time you're spending trying to help him."

Seven looks unconvinced.

Kathryn is suddenly reminded of something Chakotay said. "And I owe you an apology, Seven, I forgot to pass on a message. In engineering during the emergency, Chakotay told me to tell you he was sorry but he wouldn't be able to keep your date for the following evening."

"It was not a 'date'," Seven replies immediately, looking uncomfortable.

"It's just a figure of speech, Seven," Kathryn explains patiently.

Then Seven colours noticeably and looks away, decidedly more uncomfortable.

"I had not yet decided on the best way to make clear to Commander Chakotay my desire to change the na-," she breaks off. "I was uncertain how to proceed."

"Oh?" Kathryn's brow furrows as she stalls for time to mask her surprise at this unexpected confidence and its implications. "So, you suggested hoverball?"

"Correct. Chakotay spends a portion of his leisure time participating in sporting activities, as do I. I thought it would be prudent to explore this shared interest."

"I'm sure he would've enjoyed playing against you, Seven," Kathryn replies quietly, still considering the implication of the younger woman's previous remarks.

Kathryn feels Seven's eyes on her.

The younger woman pauses for a moment before she goes on hesitantly. "I am finding it… hard to manage the feelings Commander Chakotay's condition inspires in me. I had not anticipated it would be so… difficult."

"I'm sure a lot of the crew are finding this very difficult."

"Of course, Captain." Seven looks away, visibly withdrawing into herself.

"I'm sorry, Seven," Kathryn replies, kicking herself for her lack of sensitivity. "I wasn't meaning to imply your feelings aren't significant. You have every right to express them. I'm so sorry that you are finding this hard, and I'd like to help any way I can." Kathryn digs deep into her personal reserves. "I'm sorry you hadn't had the chance to make Chakotay aware of your… hopes."

"My intentions are irrelevant now."

"Your feelings aren't."

Seven takes a deep breath, seemingly affected by Kathryn's concern. Then she turns to face her again.

"Perhaps you would have a better chance of success at convincing Chakotay to agree to the treatment, Captain?"

"Perhaps, " Kathryn replies, "but I doubt it."

"But you will try?" Seven presses, with as much emotion in her voice as Kathryn has ever heard.

Kathryn glances towards the door and turns slightly. "Of course."

Despite the offer of support she made a few moments ago, Janeway's body language effectively wards off any further conversation. She flees the lab at a brisk pace, leaving Seven standing tall in the same spot, her pale blue gaze following her mentor out.

XxX

As she hesitates a few paces away from sickbay's door release pads, Kathryn is overcome by a sense of dread.

She enters to the sight of B'Elanna sleeping and the Doctor in his office, rather than at Chakotay's bedside. Kathryn finds that she already knows what the EMH is going to say. He comes out to greet her as soon as he sees her.

"I'm sorry, Captain. Chakotay has lost consciousness. Just a few minutes ago."

Kathryn finds she's unable to speak. She nods.

"If you'd like to see him, then go ahead. I presume Mr Paris informed you of his wishes about visitors."

"Yes," she almost whispers. "Thank you, Doctor."

Kathryn walks slowly towards the curtained area and her hand reaches out to pull back the curtain. The loosely woven blanket is haphazardly arranged to one side of the bed as if Chakotay has pushed it off, and the top end of the bed is tilted up slightly. She perches on one of the stools and studies Chakotay's face, which is turned slightly away from her.

The angles of his face – of his jaw and cheekbone – seem sharper somehow. Although the colour in his cheek is no darker than it was when she saw him the first day he was in here, the usually flawless skin of his temple is marred now by an angry-looking red lesion. Kathryn's gaze takes in similar eruptions on his arms and his neck. It would appear the 'largely cosmetic' treatment the Doctor spoke of that first day is proving less effective now the disease is progressing.

The perfect curves of his lips are unblemished. Kathryn has an urge to trace the outline of his sculpted mouth with her fingertips.

Instead, her fingers alight on the unblemished skin of his shoulder, and she rests her hand there, cupping the mound of his smooth warm muscle.

"Forgive me, Chakotay," she whispers, closing her eyes to hold back the sickening swell of guilt, avoidance and failure of these last few hours – days, years?

Tears escape from under closed lashes and make their way slowly down her cheek. Kathryn just sits, losing track of the seconds and minutes, unwilling to move and leave him behind here.

"Hey."

She's so startled that she makes a gulping sound. His dark eyes are open, watching her.

"Oh! Chakotay."

"It's good to see you," he croaks.

"How are you feeling?"

"I realise I'm not looking my best, but I'm actually feeling OK. Just tired."

"Here, let me get you some water." Kathryn reaches for the nearby beaker, and his hands come up to take hold of the beaker too. Together they guide it towards the full lips she had been studying in stillness a few minutes ago. He swallows several mouthfuls.

"Thanks."

She puts it down and her eyes sweep over his face. "The Doctor thought you'd lost consciousness."

"Maybe I had. Don't know. I think I was just sleeping," he coughs, clearing his throat. "Certainly had some strange dreams." His features form that familiar bemused expression of his, and it warms some place deep inside her that's been cold for days now.

"I'm so sorry I didn't come earlier."

"It's all right."

"No, it's not."

"You're here now."

"I am. And I just-" she stalls. "I don't know what to say to you."

"Then don't say anything. Just sit a while."

Kathryn takes his large hand and clasps it gently between hers and nods, unable to speak. He squeezes back.

A few seconds pass, and his eyelids droop and suddenly Kathryn is terrified – she can't let him drift away now.

"You know if there'd been a way for me to trade places with you, I would have," she says, squeezing his hand.

"You think I'd have let you?" comes his croaking chuckle of a reply, as he tilts his face towards her, dark eyes on her again.

She smiles the ghost of a smile. "Even though we always knew something like this could happen, I think I've always believed we'd beat the odds, you know?"

"No surprises there. You're an optimist. It's one of the things I've always loved about you."

Kathryn swallows as hot tears silently spill onto her cheeks.

They hold each other's gaze for a long precious moment. Then she steels herself against the conversation she must now initiate.

"Seven and the Doctor hope to make a breakthrough soon. If they do, and they work out how to control the scope of the nanoprobes' integration into your damaged cells, will you allow us to try to save you?"

"I don't want to have this conversation again, Kathryn," he replies wearily.

"All I want is for you to say we can try, if they get to the point that they're _sure_ it's safe."

He sighs out a long breath. "If they could be sure it'd be safe then there'd be no conversation to have. I read the Doc's research after he tried last time, so did you. We both know it'll never be safe, and it would never be something I could live with. You understand that. I know you do."

His eyes close now and he turns his head to the side to rest more comfortably.

"But if the situation changes," she presses on. "If we're sure it'll work – surely then you'd reconsider? I couldn't bear to order the Doctor not to try something that could save your life. I couldn't live with that."

"I don't want to cause you pain, Kathryn-" he starts from under closed lashes, stopping when he seems to run out of breath. Then he inhales deeply and tries again, "I don't want to force you… to give orders you find painful, b…" His voice falls away, his unfinished sentence hanging between them. His hold on Kathryn's hand loosens until his hand is slack between hers.

She calls his name gently, once, twice, but he doesn't reply.

She puts a hand to his temple to stroke his brow, then her fingers gently trace a path across his forehead and down his cheek, carefully avoiding the blemished area of skin.

"If you don't want to cause me pain, then you'd agree to try," she whispers into the air around them as her sadness spills over once more to drop silently onto his skin.

[TBC]

 


	4. Chapter 4

For the last twenty-four hours, the Captain has done her job with empty efficiency. She's spent time working in engineering and hours on the bridge overseeing the work of others. She's eaten the small meals Neelix has begun delivering to her at regular intervals no matter where she is.

Once she finally made it to Chakotay's bedside, it took everything she had to leave again, and since then, she's been back more than she should. In fact, it seems to have become very hard to stay away. Slumped uncomfortably in the chair next to his bed is the only place she's actually slept. The few fitful hours she spent in her quarters the previous night brought neither sleep nor rest. And today again, her feet keep taking her back to his side, as if she believes her presence alone will be enough to stop him slipping away.

Somewhere deep in her heart, she knows that this is just a different form of denial.

Repairs are progressing well – they're almost complete now – and so, after a cursory review of the morning's reports, she heads for the science lab to see if there's been any progress. Everywhere she goes, silent watchful eyes are on her. The mood on board _Voyager_ is sombre. Everyone is well aware that time is running out fast for Chakotay.

XxX

As she enters the lab, the Doctor looks up from his work and greets her. Seven is in engineering right now, filling in for B'Elanna, and the young engineer is here, perched awkwardly on a stool that looks too small for her, hunched over a screen beside the EMH.

The Captain comes to stand behind them and the Doctor tilts the monitor so she can see the most recent data. When she's up to speed with as much of it as she can understand, she asks him for an update, to fill in the blanks.

"All my simulations have ended the same way, Captain," he eventually concludes. "I'm still unable to stop the nanoprobes from over compensating. I've even programmed them with Chakotay's most recent healthy transporter pattern, but it just isn't proving enough."

B'Elanna brings up another screen of fragmented information and gestures towards it with obvious frustration. "The nanoprobes are doomed to fail because _this_ is all the data we have on the radiation level in engineering. If we had _precise_ data it could make all the difference."

"B'Elanna's right. Ideally I'd like a test subject who had been exposed to the exact same conditions."

Kathryn frowns, about to responds when the door swishes open and Seven strides purposefully in holding something out in front of her at arms length. The object is wrapped in a small grey blanket, forming a bundle about the size of a football.

Seven nods curtly to the Captain and to B'Elanna, turning immediately to address the Doctor.

"I believe this may be of use, Doctor."

"What is it?" he asks, frowning sceptically.

Seven deposits whatever it is on the top of the workstation, tipping a small fluorescent blue ball of fur out of the blanket. Kathryn jumps. The fur ball startles her further by shuffling to the edge of the surface and making a loud squeaking noise.

_Voyager_ 's captain is stunned. She can't believe what she's seeing. Perhaps the stress of the last few days has finally gotten to her? Perhaps she's starting to hallucinate?

"FruFru!" B'Elanna suddenly shouts, unnerving the Captain even more.

"I hardly think cursing in Klingon is helpful right now, Lieutenant," the Doctor reproaches with a scowl.

B'Elanna snorts, irate, "I'm not cursing! I'm telling you what it is. It's FruFru." The engineer hauls herself off of her stool and takes several steps back to stand behind Kathryn. "That's her name."

The ball of fur in front of them begins to make a series of high-pitched squeaking noises.

"Its designation is irrelevant," Seven replies coolly. "But it may be of use in our search for information, Doctor. I discovered it behind a loose panel less than two metres from the warp core. As you can see it is alive. It appears to have survived the breach."

"It looks like a fluorescent tribble!" Kathryn exclaims. "What on earth is it doing on _Voyager_ , B'Elanna?"

"Fascinating!" the Doctor cuts in, clearly excited now. "You were right to bring it to me, Seven." He tentatively prods the small furry ball in front of him, and it squeaks louder, edging slowly away from his fingers. "If I'm not mistaken, examining it may well prove useful in our work in more ways than one – if it is what I think it is." He gently nudges the small beast back to the centre of the console.

Seven raises a perfect brow in question. Kathryn struggles to keep up, and B'Elanna starts to cough.

"What do you mean, Doctor?" Kathryn asks.

"It looks like a rare subspecies of tribble called a Turray tribble, Captain, named after Professor Lucius Turray. Not long before we left the Alpha Quadrant, he discovered that these remarkable creatures produce a regenerative hormone that has proved effective in treating degenerative neurological diseases in humans. I might be able to adapt the technique to treat Chakotay."

"That's… that-" Kathryn breaks off, as her mind stalls. She tries again. "You're telling me you may be able to use a hormone produced by…this, to treat Chakotay?"

"Well, I don't want to jump the gun here, Captain. But if I'm right, and this creature proves to be a Turray tribble, then there's cause for real hope. The regenerative hormone is extremely powerful."

"I really hope you're right, Doctor," B'Elanna replies, looking at the creature with a frown. "Ugh, I can smell her from here!" She violently wafts her hand in front of her face, and starts backing away towards the doors. "Go ahead and examine her. I need to get out of here."

"Not so fast, Lieutenant," Kathryn interjects sharply, turning immediately and wagging a warning finger. "You're not going anywhere until you explain what a rare fluorescent tribble was doing behind a wall panel in your engine room."

"She's not mine, Captain! I can't bear the things."

"So where did she come from then?"

"She belongs to Rafael Yosa. Well, actually she belonged to his sister," B'Elanna adds. "But that's another story."

Kathryn puts her hands on her hips. "What the hell is she doing _here_ , on my ship?"

"I told them this'd happen one day," the engineer mutters under her breath.

Kathryn fixes the young half-Klingon with an authoritative stare. "An explanation, _now_ , B'Elanna."

"Of course, Captain." B'Elanna finally has the good grace to look a little sheepish. "Could we maybe walk and talk, though? She's making me start to itch, and all that squeaking drives me crazy."

"The Doctor and I will examine the creature," Seven states.

"Don't go dissecting her, Seven," B'Elanna cautions.

"Of course we won't harm the animal, Lieutenant," the EMH bristles. "Frankly, I find that suggestion insulting."

"Right," B'Elanna backtracks. "Although, if it were up to me, I'd say go ahead and dissect her if you need to. But Yosa'd kill me if I let anyone harm her. We thought she was dead. He'll be really relieved she's still alive – not to mention pretty shocked and delighted if she can help treat Chakotay in some way."

Kathryn has just been standing in mute astonishment, listening to this exchange as her mind races forward and hope for Chakotay reawakens. She snaps out of it, however, and herds B'Elanna out. They start down the corridor towards the 'lift.

"I want answers, B'Elanna. _Now,_ " Kathryn demands. "What was that thing doing on the ship in the first place? And where the hell did Crewman Yosa find a phosphorescent blue tribble in the Delta Quadrant?"

"He didn't."

"He didn't?"

"I told you. FruFru belonged to his sister. He brought her with him when we beamed over from the _Val Jean_."

Kathryn's brain stalls again. "You're telling me that thing has been a stowaway on my ship for _seven years_? Living behind a panel in engineering?"

"No. Well, sort of."

Her voice dropping in volume and pitch, the Captain enunciates very clearly. "I want to know exactly _what_ and _who_ was involved in this. Then I'll be having a little chat with Crewman Yosa."

Once they've stepped inside the lift and she's asked for deck five, Kathryn turns expectantly to B'Elanna, who cautiously meets her gaze.

"It's a long story, Captain."

"Oh, believe me," Kathryn replies, quirking a brow. "I'll make the time." She instructs the computer to hold the 'lift.

"The tribble belonged to Yosa's youngest sister," B'Elanna begins. "Just before his sister died, she made him promise he'd take care of it. You know about what happened to his family, don't you?"

"Chakotay told me something of his history."

"Well, he persuaded Chakotay to allow him to keep FruFru on the _Val Jean_ – she's been neutered. Obviously."

This news sets Kathryn's jangling nerves off again and her scientific brain starts whirring. Would neutering the creature affect its ability to produce the rare hormone? Putting these concerns aside for now she presses on, holding B'Elanna's gaze. "So, Chakotay knew full well that Mr Yosa had brought this 'pet' aboard _Voyager_?" Then she exhales and looks to the floor, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. "In fact, let me guess; _all_ of the former Maquis are in on this little secret?"

"Well, um..."

"They would have to be, wouldn't they? Since someone has clearly taken the trouble to expertly mask its life-signs for seven years. And if it's been living in engineering, then someone must have been feeding it and- " Kathryn breaks off, exasperated by all the ramifications of this revelation. "But _Tuvok_? How on earth have you managed to keep Tuvok from discovering it in all this time?"

"Well, there have been a few close calls," B'Elanna admits. "But she's very quiet – except if she's scared like just now. And Yosa says she doesn't eat much. A few of his friends look out for her when he's off duty. And Captain, I promise she hasn't been in engineering the _whole_ time," B'Elanna insists earnestly – as if this somehow makes a difference…

"Yosa says she likes the vibrations of the warp core, and that panel was her favourite spot. As long as it's closed I couldn't smell her, so I turned a blind eye. I'm sorry, Captain. I take full responsibility for allowing him to bring her into my engine room."

"It's not for you to apologise, B'Elanna." Kathryn sighs. "Chakotay is your superior officer, and it's clear he condoned Mr Yosa bringing his 'pet' on board in the first place. You were simply following his lead. It was up to him to deal with this more… appropriately."

"Well, I'm still sorry. Some of us already knew the regs about pets on board Starfleet ships, and we didn't want Rafael to have to get rid of her, so we all just kind of decided to keep quiet."

Kathryn takes a long appraising look at her chief engineer for a moment, wondering just what other secrets factions of her crew have been keeping from her for the last seven years.

B'Elanna shifts uneasily under her gaze.

"What I still don't understand is that you don't seem all that surprised that the creature is still _alive_ , after being exposed to all that radiation."

"I am, a little, I suppose," B'Elanna says, raising an eyebrow. Then she frowns. "But FruFru's tough. We always joked that she seemed pretty much indestructible. She used to sleep inside the casing of the warp core itself on Chakotay's ship, so I guess it's possible she's developed a tolerance for radiation. And, if she produces this hormone the Doctor mentioned, then that makes even more sense."

"I see," Kathryn replies. "I've never seen a tribble that colour," she muses. "She's positively luminous!"

"Yeah. Me neither. But I can't say I know much about them. FruFru is the only one I've ever seen up close. I'd managed to avoid them pretty successfully until I joined Chakotay's cell."

"Well, I'm going to sickbay, and then I will have to pay a visit to Mr Yosa. _Computer resume_. I'll leave it to you to give him the good news. And the bad news."

"Yes, Captain."

XxX

Making her way through the corridors of deck five, for the first time since she watched Chakotay slump into oblivion against the console in engineering, Kathryn feels a flicker of hope. Perhaps the Doctor will indeed find a way to use this regenerative hormone. If it's been successful in the treatment of degenerative neurological diseases in humans, then it's not impossible it could prove effective with Chakotay's tissue damage. At the very least, it might inspire the Doctor to devise a new approach.

Once she arrives, the sight of Chakotay lying there silent and still quickly puts an end to the light relief of the tribble-inspired optimism.

She stands at his bedside for a while, holding his hand between hers once again and praying that he will somehow miraculously regain consciousness, so that she can speak to him again. His last words to her replay in her mind.

He said he didn't want to force her to give an order she found painful – which, now that she thinks about it, could be interpreted as him saying he was changing his mind about refusing to undergo experimental treatment. There's a chance, she tells herself, that this is what Chakotay was about to say…

As she considers this, wondering whether it's just wishful thinking, suspecting it is – just sophistry really – her fingers stray to his hair and she gently touches it. It occurs to her as she does so, that in seven years of daily life together side by side, she's not actually sure she's ever touched his hair.

But then she's proved wrong by a memory that suddenly surfaces. She can see his broad frame as he crouches in front of her. He reaches forward to part the thick undergrowth and point out where the sweet purple berries he'd found were growing, close to the ground not far from their shelter all those years ago. As she'd listened to him talk, a flying insect had landed on his head and she'd brushed it away, her fingers surfing through the ends of his thick brush cut. He'd turned and looked up at her in surprise. "Flying bug," she'd said in explanation, and he'd smiled and thanked her.

Suddenly, Kathryn returns to the present with a jolt, because when her fingers emerge from sliding through the thick hair on the side of his head, some of it sticks to them, and a few strands fall onto the pillow.

Kathryn gasps.

Tom Paris appears by her side.

"Here, let me," he says, carefully brushing away the fallen hair. "That's better."

"His hair…" she says.

"It's amazing it hasn't started to fall out before, Captain," Tom remarks quietly.

Kathryn brushes the last few strands from her fingers and closes her eyes for an instant. Paris remains at her side.

Then the silence is broken by the Doctor's voice.

" _Doctor to the Captain."_

"Yes, Doctor?"

" _I'm pleased to be able to confirm that my suspicion was correct, Captain. Our Maquis stowaway is indeed a Turray tribble - one could almost call them super-tribbles. I've already reviewed the most recent of Professor Turray's research that we have access to. He documents how they have a more complex physiology and a longer lifespan than their common relatives."_

"Tribble?" Tom Paris stutters.

"That's fascinating, Doctor, but what about the hormone you mentioned?" Kathryn asks.

" _Indeed, that's what's of particular interest to us, Captain. I'm optimistic I can adapt some of Turray's treatments using this hormone to combat Chakotay's radiation sickness. The hormone extraction's a painless procedure, which won't harm our super-tribble."_

"That's wonderful news, Doctor. And was it this regenerative hormone that allowed the creature to survive exposure to radiation?"

" _It was, Captain, yes. FruFru has been exposed to the same high intensity radiation as the Commander, and yet already her cells have almost totally repaired themselves!"_

As the physician closes the channel, Kathryn turns to Tom Paris. His eyebrows are chasing his hairline and his mouth is open.

" _FruFru_?" he tests in disbelief.

She turns back to her prostrate first officer and lays her hand on Chakotay's shoulder a moment and smiles.

"Excuse me, Commander. I think I need to fill Lieutenant Paris in on a few things."

[TBC]

 


	5. Chapter 5

 Sickbay

As the EMH finishes explaining to Kathryn how he has managed to adapt Professor Turray's treatment to be effective against Chakotay's acute radiation sickness, Kathryn's admiration for his ingenuity is surpassed only by her gratitude.  There is once again so much to be thankful for- at moments like it's easy to believe her crew will always beat the odds.  Finding a way home before it's time to retire seems somehow less implausible at times like this too.

Tuvok and Seven stand beside her at the foot of Chakotay's biobed listening, while Tom Paris monitors the patient's vital signs. All the simulations the Doctor has conducted have been successful, he reports. Chakotay's damaged cells will be stimulated to repair themselves by the injection of this super-tribble regenerative hormone. The Commander should make a full recovery.

As Kathryn listens to the physician describe how the procedure will work, her eyes stray to Chakotay's face. His hair has now fallen out completely. His baldness looks strange and unnatural. The last time life in the Delta Quadrant left him bald, the loss of his hair was at least in keeping with the premature ageing of his skin. Not this time. His tattoo is visible in its entirety again. Kathryn has the illogical urge to move to the other end of the bed and cover with her fingers the part of his tattoo that is usually concealed.

Then, as the Doctor's explanation concludes, her internal alarm bells ring – because she doesn't like what she's hearing at all.

"My simulations have revealed that we will still need to use a very small number of nanoprobes," the Doctor mentions cautiously, "to treat the cell damage in one area of Chakotay's brain."

"What do you mean, Doctor?" Janeway queries immediately.

"In each of the simulations, the regenerative hormone has been unable to penetrate Chakotay's temporal lobe to repair the cell damage."

Kathryn looks at Tuvok and he raises an eyebrow. This isn't good news.

The Doctor goes on. "When we examined FruFru, we also found that the cells in her temporal lobe were the only ones that the hormone seemed unable to gain access to and repair. Crewman Yosa gave us permission to introduce a tiny number of nanoprobes into FruFru's bloodstream, to see if they could carry the regenerative hormone to this part of her brain as well. I'm pleased to report they were completely successful with no side effects, and she has now made a complete recovery. And, in the simulations I've run of the treatment I've devised for Commander Chakotay, the nanoprobes are also successful at delivering the regenerative hormone to these damaged cells."

"So, you're saying Chakotay won't recover fully unless you use some nanoprobes as well?"

"Yes, Captain. But we're only talking about a _tiny_ number of nanoprobes."

"And there's no other way you can repair the damaged cells?"

"I'm afraid not," the Doctor confirms.

Both the Doctor's and Kathryn's eyes flick to Tuvok because the silent Vulcan shifts slightly. His features remain impassive.

Tuvok doesn't interject, so the EMH continues. "The risk of assimilation is no longer a real possibility, Captain. The regenerative hormone only allows the nanoprobes access to the _damaged_ components of any cell. It blocks their attempts to access any other parts. As a result, the nanoprobes recognise the host cells as equals, rather than classifying them as inferior cells that only merit assimilation. So, if we inject the Turray hormone into Chakotay's bloodstream, it will work as a catalyst for his cells to begin to regenerate, and it will also limit the nanoprobes' access to his healthy cells."

"I understand what you're saying, Doctor. The procedure's less risky, but the fact remains that you still need to use nanoprobes."

"Only a _very_ small number, Captain," the EMH repeats.

Kathryn catches Tuvok's eye and he hold her gaze.

"Captain," her old friend begins, "I feel I should point out that the original dilemma remains. Commander Chakotay expressly refused treatment involving Borg nanoprobes. It is a matter about which he has strong feelings. He was of sound mind and perfectly lucid. I believe that we should respect his wishes."

Then Seven speaks up. "I disagree. Commander Chakotay would reassess the situation. Now that the procedure no longer involves the risk of assimilation, I believe he would change his mind."

"Nothing he said would support that conclusion," Tuvok counters evenly. "The Commander objected to the introduction of nanoprobes in principle. I do not believe he would consider the quantity involved to be significant."

One hand on her hip, the other loose by her side, Kathryn inhales deeply and considers this. She looks past her colleagues to stare unfocussed at the doors to sickbay. Then, movement in the group brings her gaze back to Chakotay's bedside.

Tom Paris has moved away from the monitor to join the small circle at the foot of the bed. "I think Seven's right," he states.

"On what are you basing your opinion?" Tuvok interrogates.

"I'd say that Chakotay understands when it's time to compromise better than anyone on this ship," Tom replies, looking at the Captain.

Tuvok looks unconvinced.

Paris exhales audibly. "Even if it did go wrong, it sounds as if it's more likely that Chakotay'd end up part tribble than part Borg."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mr Paris." The Doctor deadpans, then he looks back towards Janeway. "I can assure you, Captain, the Commander won't end up part anything."

Kathryn frowns as she attempts to banish the less-than-helpful images Tom's gallows humour inspires. Taking a steadying breath, she reflects on the choice before her.

While it's inescapably true that this procedure would still go against Chakotay's wishes, Tom's right. Chakotay is highly adaptable; he's had to be, so Seven's point is valid. It's totally possible he would change his mind, now the risk involved is far lower. And there are other things to consider as well. As Captain she must balance respecting Chakotay's wishes against serving the best interests of her crew. The death of their first officer would prove disastrous for crew morale, not to mention what it would mean to his friends and to her personally.

"I've made my decision," she informs the group. "Take every possible precaution, Doctor. Go ahead with the treatment."

"Very good, Captain. I'll send for Crewman Yosa and FruFru and I'll begin immediately," the hologram replies enthusiastically.

If the Doctor's confident that there's a good chance this procedure will save Chakotay's life, then that's more than enough. It's worth the risk; she'll deal with the fallout later.

Janeway looks to Tuvok, but the Vulcan stares straight ahead, avoiding eye contact. Seven and Tom are both looking at their captain, however, and the relief on both their faces is clear.

"Let me know as soon as the treatment is complete," Janeway tells the Doctor. "I'll be on the bridge."

XxX

As the doors of the turbolift open, Kathryn hears Tuvok's measured footsteps close behind her.

He steps in silently beside her. Kathryn anticipates his inevitable evaluation of the consequences of her decision, so she opts for diversionary tactics.

"Now you've had several hours to think about it, I'd like to know how Crewman Yosa managed to keep an illegal pet on board this ship for seven years without my chief of security knowing anything about it."

"Crewman Yosa wasn't alone in orchestrating this deception, Captain. All of the former Maquis were involved."

"Yes, I know. B'Elanna admitted as much to me. All the same, don't you think you should've caught on at some point?" Kathryn looks up at him expectantly.

"The former Maquis are devious, Captain."

Kathryn frowns. "I don't think that's enough of an explanation, Tuvok."

"My apologies, Captain. I should have anticipated some sort of enduring covert activity from Chakotay's crew. I apologise for my failure to detect the presence of the creature."

Kathryn continues to watch his face. "Apology accepted. And let's make sure there aren't any _other_ little surprises waiting for us."

"Understood."

"Good. I've already spoken to Mr Yosa. Needless to say, he was very apologetic. He agreed that Naomi should be allowed to care for his pet sometimes while he's at work. Naomi's delighted."

"Indeed. Did Crewman Yosa offer any explanation as to why he took the animal into engineering with him?"

"He said FruFru's purring kept him awake at night, so he'd take her into engineering – usually in a small equipment case he said – and leave her to while away the small hours purring to her heart's content in the empty panel adjacent to the warp core."

"I see. As Acting First Officer, I will, of course, take appropriate disciplinary action against all of the Maquis involved in this conspiracy."

"How about you leave me to deal with this one, Tuvok?"

The Vulcan looks unimpressed. More than usual.

Kathryn wags a finger at him. "Before anyone's disciplined, I intend to have a _long_ talk with Commander Chakotay about all of this – once he's well enough to explain, of course."

"As you wish, Captain."

"I can't ignore the fact that it was Chakotay's sanctioning of the pet's presence on _Voyager_ that gave the former Maquis the confidence to conceal it from me, and from you, and from the rest of the crew."

"Indeed, Captain. If Commander Chakotay recovers, you will no doubt require an explanation as to why he chose to disregard Starfleet regulations – just as the Commander will no doubt require an explanation as to why you chose to disregard his wishes by allowing the Doctor to inject him with nanoprobes."

And there it is – the inevitable allusion - just when she's starting to think he's going to foil her expectations.

Kathryn shoots him a sideways look. "If I didn't know you better, Tuvok, I'd say you were wishing you could be a fly on the wall."

The arch of a single infinitesimally affronted eyebrow is the only response she gets.

[TBC]

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I'm actually really enjoying editing this! I aim to have cut out the chaff from the remaining chapters and have the story complete here by the end of this week. I'm replacing each edited chapter on ffn too, so by Sunday the streamlined, hopefully slightly tighter version will be up on both sites. 
> 
> I hope those of you following are enjoying it, and thank you very much to the readers who've bookmarked and/or left kudos.

 

 

* * *

 

Kathryn is on her way to sickbay once again, but this time the toxic mix of nausea and dread that's been constantly swirling through her gut for the past few days is pleasantly absent.

After hours and hours of tense and seemingly endless waiting, the Doctor finally called up the to the bridge to say that he had finished treating Chakotay, and that the procedure had been successful.

Repairs to _Voyager_ 's damaged systems are all but complete and the ship has resumed her course home, so the Captain is free to go straight down to check on her first officer. She closes her eyes for a moment as the turbolift descends, praying that there are no surprises awaiting her in the Doctor's report.

XxX

As soon as she enters she sees that the curtain around Chakotay's bed has been pulled back. It's also instantly apparent that the heavy veil of gloom that has hung over this room for the past few days has lifted.

She enters the sterile field that the Doctor set up to automatically decontaminate visitors, and she stands next to the Doctor, her eyes going straight to Chakotay's face. She gasps, instinctively grasping the hologram's arm.

The improvement since she last saw Chakotay is staggering. The angry red lesions have vanished completely and his skin has almost returned to its usual colour. It is still a shade darker on his face and arms, but it has lost the unnatural pinky-red tinge of the advanced stages of radiation sickness. He is no longer bald. His head is covered with thick, natural-looking salt and pepper grey hair, two or three centimetres long already.

The Doctor pats her hand as she clutches his arm.

"It certainly is a welcome sight, isn't it?"

"Oh, you have no idea!" Kathryn turns to look at the physician.

He smiles at her. "Chakotay is doing well, Captain. The procedure was effective, exactly as the simulations predicted. His brain activity is normal. As you can see, I've stimulated his hair follicles a little, as I thought he'd prefer to wake up to a more familiar reflection. He's still heavily sedated, but that will wear off by this evening."

Eyes suddenly full, Kathryn finds herself smiling back at the Doctor. A solitary tear spills onto her cheek and she quickly brushes it away, registering at the same time quite how forcefully she's still clasping the Doctor's arm.

"I'm sorry, Doctor," she says, laughing a little as she releases him.

"Not at all, Captain. I expect the entire ship to sigh with relief now the news of Chakotay's recovery is filtering through the decks."

"Yes. I'm sure it will."

The relief powering through Kathryn's veins is so potent that it leaves her a little giddy. She takes a steadying breath as the Doctor moves away from the monitor to stand over the adjacent mobile cabinet housing his instrument tray. Next to the tray is a rectangular box with low sides. Spouts of fluorescent blue fur inside the box immediately catch Kathryn's eye.

"And how is our saviour tribble?" she asks, shaking herself internally to regroup.

"I expect both my patients to make a full recovery." The physician beams back, gently stroking the tribble with one finger.

Kathryn moves to stand next to him. The tribble is purring audibly and appears to be vibrating slightly.

"Is she awake?"

"No, Captain. FruFru purrs when she's sleeping sometimes as well. It's a good sign. The procedure has exhausted her, she needs to rest for a few more hours, but she's in perfect health."

He takes in Kathryn's interested gaze. "You can pet her if you like."

Kathryn smiles at the Doctor again. "I think I'd like that."

The Doctor gently smoothes down some tufts of FruFru's luminous fur. He withdraws his hand and Kathryn takes over.

"She feels like she has feathers," Janeway remarks in surprise, as her fingertips register how incredibly soft the little creature is.

"Yes, it's strange, isn't it? The texture of her fur is similar to the downy feathers of a barn owl."

"And you're sure she's all right?"

"FruFru suffered no ill effects from the procedure. I'll be able to discharge her to Crewman Yosa in a few hours. He said he intends to take her up to the messhall for breakfast."

"I hope Neelix's food agrees with her," Kathryn muses, as she continues to gently stroke the little creature, delighting in the feel of the warm, exquisitely soft and downy fur.

"Apparently, at the start of our journey, Crewman Yosa professed to have some very specific dietary requirements," the Doctor explains – clearly already up to speed with all the latest tribble-related scuttlebutt. "Mr Neelix said he thought they were little-known Terran food fetishes that hadn't made it into the Federation database. So, it seems Mr Neelix has already been catering for FruFru for years without realising it."

"I see." Kathryn cocks her head to one side. "I guess Tuvok's right. The former Maquis are a devious bunch." She smiles at FruFru. "Which is lucky for us. If they weren't, Chakotay wouldn't be recovering right now."

"Indeed. Although I still fail to see why _I_ was left out of the loop," the EMH remarks. "Crewman Yosa could've allowed me to see to his pet's basic health needs. I may be a Starfleet hologram, but I would obviously have been bound by doctor-patient confidentiality. And just think, Captain," he gesticulates with one hand, "if I'd known about FruFru then I might've been able to use this treatment on other crewmembers over the past seven years."

"Yes, that's occurred to me too, Doctor," Janeway sighs. "But we have to remember that Mr Yosa was unaware that his pet was unusual. As far as he was concerned, she was just an illegal stowaway."

"All the same, I still fail to see why I wasn't considered trustworthy enough to help care for FruFru."

Kathryn raises a resigned eyebrow. "Yes, well, no one likes to be left out of the loop." She gives the glowing blue feathers a final gentle stroke and leaves the tribble to sleep in peace.

Janeway's attention goes back to Chakotay.

"You said Chakotay should regain consciousness late this evening?"

"Yes. He was heavily sedated during the procedure." The Doctor frowns. "I'd prefer not to introduce any more pharmaceuticals to wake him. What his body needs is time to recover at its own pace. But I can revive him now if you really need me to."

"That won't be necessary, Doctor."

"Very good, Captain."

Then the Doctor smiles again, picks up the box, nods to the Captain and carries the sleeping tribble into his office.

Kathryn just stands for a moment. Her eyes sweep greedily over the healthier looking form of her first officer stretched out before her.

The unusual beige blanket is still covering his lower body. Kathryn straightens it carefully. As she does so, her fingers explore the texture and she studies the different coloured stones woven into the natural fibres of the fabric. The blanket is simple, but skilfully made. Her eyes move up to rest on Chakotay's familiar face. She wonders about the people of the Ventu tribe that he and Seven encountered on Ledos. What would Chakotay have said about the whole adventure if he'd had the chance to write a report or to tell her about it before all hell broke loose?

The edges of his lips still look a little dry. Kathryn reaches for the small pot of medicated salve that she saw Tom apply around Chakotay's mouth. As carefully as she can, she uses the very tips of her fingers to spread a small amount of the salve slowly across the upper curves of Chakotay's cupid's bow. She takes a fraction more and smears it equally slowly over the swell of his lower lip and gently back along the edge of his mouth.

Then her curled fingers linger close to his cheek. For a fraction of a second, she allows the backs of them to graze his jaw as she exhales deeply for what feels like the first time in days.

The Doctor must have approached while Kathryn was distracted as only now does she register movement in her peripheral vision. She quickly withdraws her fingers, sliding her hands against each other to disperse the excess salve.

"Let me know when he wakes up, Doctor," she instructs, and she takes her leave.

XxX

As she is finishing her afternoon coffee, Kathryn takes a call from Seven. The ex-Borg requests her participation in a game of velocity. It seems like as good a way as any to get through the hours of waiting, so Kathryn agrees to play three games – no more. Where Seven is concerned it pays to be clear from the outset.

So, a little while later on the holodeck, the two women take each other on.

Kathryn wins the first game easily; Seven seems to be playing like a beginner. Then Janeway's concentration slips just as her opponent's improves, and Kathryn's interest in winning wanes. Seven wins the second game. By match point in the third, both women are flushed. Kathryn is sweating and breathing heavily. Then Seven hits an outstanding, completely un-returnable shot that claims the match.

A few minutes later, her muscles still protesting, Janeway leans against the holodeck wall exhausted and takes a long drink from her water bottle. Seven stands tall, observing her. The younger woman already appears totally composed – her flushed cheeks and the few stray hairs that have escaped her up-do the only clues that she's exerted herself at all.

"Well played, Seven. That was some shot." Kathryn acknowledges.

"You disadvantage yourself by failing to exercise regularly, Captain."

"Can't argue with that," Kathryn acknowledges, picking up her towel. "Computer, exit," she orders and the holodeck doors shimmer into view. Kathryn is about to start towards them, but Seven doesn't move, so Kathryn waits. She can feel the younger woman's eyes on her face.

"I am impatient for Commander Chakotay to regain consciousness," Seven tells her.

"It shouldn't be too long now," Kathryn reassures. "The Doctor is confident everything went very well."

Still sensing the weight of Seven's appraising gaze, Janeway takes another swig from her bottle.

"Do you have romantic feelings for the Commander, Captain?" Seven asks.

Kathryn almost chokes and leans quickly forwards, bringing her hand to her mouth and spluttering water out onto the holodeck floor.

"I apologise. I didn't intend to alarm you."

"It's all right." Kathryn coughs a few times and recovers herself, dabbing her mouth with her towel. "That was just a little… unexpected. Why do you ask?"

"After the emergency, when it seemed unlikely Commander Chakotay would recover, I overheard several members of the crew speculating on the difficulties you would have adapting to his death."

Kathryn purses her lips and pats her front dry with her towel. "I see the gossip mill wasn't affected by our dire circumstances."

"I don't believe the comments were unkindly meant, Captain," Seven replies earnestly. "But the implication was that it would be more significant a loss for you than I had anticipated. And I'm obviously aware of Chakotay's significance in _Voyager_ 's command and social structure and of your personal friendship with him."

Seven pauses, as if awaiting a response. Kathryn is still far too off balance to offer one.

The younger woman goes on. "I also noted your discomfort in the science lab when I sought your advice."

Seven looks at her expectantly again.

"I can see you've given this some thought." Kathryn stalls, folding her towel carefully.

"You are correct."

"Chakotay and I are friends, Seven." Kathryn holds her gaze, feigning composure.

Seven doesn't look away, but continues to wait, clearly expecting more.

The moment stretches tensely between them as Kathryn searches for the right words for this situation, although she is far from convinced that she would ever find them.

"As Captain, it would be inappropriate for me to have an intimate relationship with a member of my crew."

"I'm familiar with Starfleet's protocols," Seven counters immediately. "The speculation I overheard suggested that you had developed feelings for the Commander that are in conflict with the protocols." The younger woman hesitates. "I apologise if my question made you uncomfortable, Captain."

"It isn't my custom to discuss my personal life with the crew, Seven."

"And it isn't mine to involve myself in the romantic lives of others, I assure you. But I would not wish to pursue my interest in the Commander at the expense of anyone else's feelings, least of all yours."

The young woman pauses before continuing, seeming to weigh her next words carefully.

"Ever since I came onboard _Voyager_ , your guidance has been invaluable. I wouldn't want to repay you by causing you emotional distress, however unintentional."

"That's very considerate of you, Seven."

Seven waits, the concern in her expression evident. Kathryn holds her gaze, the heat rising steadily in her cheeks. Her eyes flicker towards the exit to the holodeck.

A few more seconds elapse in uncomfortable silence. Kathryn licks her lips, and folds and unfolds her towel again, smoothing it down as it hangs over her forearm. Her eyes stray to the doors again.

"You wish to leave?" Seven enquires, alarm registering in her pale blue gaze.

"Well, the game's over," Kathryn deflects, desperately searching for some way to change the subject.

"You are angry with me," Seven states, looking unsettled now. Before Kathryn can reply Seven continues, "I'm sorry if the speculation I repeated is offensive to you, Captain."

"I'm not angry with you, Seven."

Janeway should say more, she really should, but no words come.

"It's clear I have misjudged this situation," the young woman goes on, as the colour rises further in the flawless skin of her cheeks. "I apologise. I won't repeat the inappropriate speculation to anyone else, and I won't refer to it again."

"There's no need to apologise, Seven, really," Kathryn stresses, as her gut swirls sickeningly. "You've done nothing wrong. And I'm not offended."

Seven dips her head, avoiding eye contact and quickly taking her leave. She exits the holodeck at a brisk pace. Kathryn is left standing there tense and disquieted in the aftermath of what was, without a doubt, one of the most awkward conversations she's ever had with her protégé.

[TBC]

 


	7. Chapter 7

Sickbay

It's been about an hour since Chakotay woke up in sickbay to the Doctor's enthusiastic greeting – which means it's now around sixty minutes since _Voyager_ 's first officer realised he wasn't actually dead.

He rubs a hand over the back of his head, looking at his reflection in the mirror and inspecting his close cropped greying brush cut.

_Could be worse._

When the Doctor first brought a mirror and insisted Chakotay admire his handiwork with the follicle stimulator, Chakotay had laughed at the tanned hedgehog staring back at him. Now his new growth has been properly shaped into the same short military cut he'd worn for years in his thirties and early forties, it's not too bad. The Doctor offered him a shot of the supplements he'd gotten into the habit of taking, but he'd declined. It's so wonderful to still be _alive_ that anything else just seems like pointless vanity.

The EMH comes back out of his office with a cup of something.

"Think of it as breakfast, Commander. Or dinner for that matter, given the hour." He hands Chakotay the mug. "It's a concentrate of nutritional supplements. It'll line your stomach with something safe before I allow you to risk the mess hall tomorrow. Mr Neelix always claims you're one of his more adventurous diners."

"Thanks." Chakotay takes a sip of the drink. "You have to keep trying new things. The law of averages means that one day Neelix'll come up with something good to eat."

"Hmm. I'm not sure whether that makes you very brave or very foolish."

"He's both, Doctor," B'Elanna quips with a big smile as she strides in, closely followed by Mike Ayala.

"Hey, you," she says, as she comes across to the surgical bay and grabs Chakotay's hand. She leans across the bed to hug him forcefully. "It's good to see you," she mumbles into his neck.

He hugs her back as much as is possible given the ever-increasing size of her bump. "Good to see you too."

"Your hair still not turned blue yet then?" Ayala feigns surprise, moving to stand on the other side of the bed and clasping Chakotay's other hand.

"Don't start." Chakotay laughs. "I woke up in here to Tom Paris, you know."

B'Elanna draws back and releases her former captain. "And?"

"I don't think I'd been conscious for more than five minutes before the Chakotribble and… Tribbleotay jokes started."

B'Elanna and Mike both laugh mercilessly.

"Yeah. Well," B'Elanna says, "I think he's just getting his own back because we never told him about FruFru all this time. I told him _you_ told me not to."

"Great, thanks," Chakotay replies, resigned. "I see you think nothing of slandering an invalid."

"Damn right." The young engineer smirks.

"When's the Doc letting you out of here?" Ayala asks.

"Sometime tomorrow. So, I'll see you both in the mess hall for dinner tomorrow night."

"Great," replies Mike. "We'll make sure Neelix saves you some grain."

Chakotay scowls.

"Actually, you may find the Captain wants you to herself for dinner," B'Elanna interjects with another smirk.

"She just called," Chakotay replies. "She'll be down soon."

"She'll be really glad you're OK." B'Elanna's serious now. "When we thought you weren't going to make it, it hit her hard."

Chakotay looks down, smoothing the Ventu blanket Seven had kindly brought in when he first found himself in sickbay.

Things must have been tough for Kathryn. She'd have been worried for him and she'd have had to oversee all the repairs – a hard enough job anyway, but with B'Elanna out of action as well… And Kathryn probably started doing parts of his job too, to make sure things didn't fall apart. Hopefully, Tuvok stepped in to help. Then, on top of all that, the final decision had been hers as to whether to allow the Doc to try some untested and unlikely sounding procedure that involved pumping her first officer full of tribble hormones and Borg nanoprobes…

B'Elanna's voice brings him back to his visitors.

"Once she finally made it down here to see you, she more or less moved in. She hardly left this chair when she wasn't on duty. I think she gave up using her quarters and just slept here. Tom said he hadn't seen her that desperate since she risked the whole ship to get you back from the Kazon."

Chakotay tries to school his features to mask the fact that hearing this stirs something inside him.

"Anyway," B'Elanna leans in, lowering her voice, so it's only audible to the three of them – the Doctor is only a short distance away in his office. "Tom said he thinks that maybe she never really moved on from carrying a torch for you all those years ago. And seeing you almost die might have been enough to make her finally admit it."

B'Elanna leans back and waits expectantly for a reaction.

Chakotay looks at Ayala, and Mike's eyes twinkle mischievously.

B'Elanna doesn't miss this. "What?" she challenges.

Ayala just grins and Chakotay dips his head, pretty sure he and Mike are thinking the same thing.

" _What_?" B'Elanna demands more forcefully.

Mike finally cracks, still grinning. "I just don't buy it. I mean, think about how many times he's nearly gotten himself killed since we've been out here. If the boss almost dying was enough to make Janeway throw herself into his arms, they'd be married with about four kids by now."

Chakotay laughs. "Sounds about right."

Crossing her arms, B'Elanna goes on, unmoved. "Well, I think this time might be different. It's a long way home. People change their minds, you know."

"Not Janeway." Mike interjects. "Think you're losing the plot, Torres."

She scowls at Ayala.

"So, what else did I miss?" Chakotay redirects.

Throwing a final glare at Ayala, B'Elanna turns to Chakotay and replies, "Actually, you also missed seeing Seven really cut up about you getting sick. And I mean _really_ cut up. The Captain's not the only one who's going to want to spend some quality time with you now you're back in the land of the living."

"Seven wants to spend quality time with me?" Chakotay queries in disbelief.

"Definitely. She caught me off guard this morning - asking some surprising questions about whether you're already romantically involved with anyone on-board. That's all I'm saying."

"You know, I think Mike's right," Chakotay replies. "You really are losing it, B'Elanna."

"Face it, Torres," Ayala joins in. "Those pregnancy hormones are finally getting to you. Or maybe it's all those romantic novels you've been binge-reading ever since Paris knocked you up."

As his two friends continue to bicker, Chakotay smiles to himself and reaches over to finish the drink the Doctor gave him.

Just imagine – Kathryn and _Seven_ both planning to make a move on him! Yeah right...

Not that he's ever thought of Seven like that – well, he may have thought of her like _that_ , of course, who hasn't, when she's standing next to you in that skintight catsuit or pointing those impressive breasts at you? But as someone who might be interested in starting a romantic relationship with him? No, he can honestly say he's never thought of her in that way.

What next? Will B'Elanna be claiming that Tuvok's thinking of asking him on a date?

And if it _were_ true, he muses, which seems _extremely_ unlikely, then what sort of cruel and unusual game would the spirits have decided to play with him? Allow him to be lonely and live the life of a monk for years and then… No, it's all too far fetched to be true anyway. Paris's over active imagination is starting to rub off on B'Elanna.

XxX

The Captain passes Lieutenants Torres and Ayala in the corridor just outside sickbay, greeting them both with a smile. B'Elanna tells her that Chakotay is doing fine and hasn't sprouted any Borg implants yet, at least not any visible ones. Janeway laughs. It's such an incredibly welcome change for the mood on-board _Voyager_ to be light-hearted again.

Kathryn had wanted to come down as soon as the Doctor had called to say Chakotay had woken up, but she'd actually been in the bath. She'd been trying to relax and soothe away the stresses of the day – a day full of long hours of inactivity and waiting that had nonetheless managed to wear her out somehow, not to mention her hour of intense activity with Seven and all the strangeness that followed. So, she's out of uniform now, in a plain blue jersey and her favourite loose fitting soft grey pants.

Chakotay is sitting up, and they lock eyes the second she's over the threshold. She drinks in the sight of him - it's so unbelievably good to see him looking almost like himself again, dressed now in a standard blue medical gown. And the short and spiky grey hair suits him – it looks right somehow.

"Welcome back." She smiles, coming to stand at his bedside and gently resting her hand on his upper arm.

"Thank you. It's certainly good to still be here."

"I missed you."

Kathryn looks into his eyes to see if she can find a clue there as to whether she needs to brace herself to face his anger about her decision to allow the Doctor to inject him with nanoprobes. She looks long and hard but she can't detect any antagonism at all. In fact, what she can see in those dark depths and the small smile curling his lips makes her feel pretty sure he knows exactly why she's apprehensive and it's amusing him just a little.

She relaxes, gives his arm a final pat and smiles back at him. "How are you feeling?"

"Human again, despite everything. I'm all right - just a little weak, and very hungry."

"I'm so glad." Kathryn hesitates a second, her eyes flickering away from his. "I don't mind telling you I was a little worried you'd be angry with me."

He reaches for her hand, which Kathryn offers willingly. He squeezes it gently, emphasising his words.

"I'd be a fool to be angry with you. I can't pretend I was thrilled when the Doctor told me he'd sent some nanoprobes on a trek through my brain, but the truth is that you saved my life by taking that risk, Kathryn. I can more than live with that. As the Doctor pointed out to me, I wouldn't have thanked you if you'd left me without my memory and several significant parts of my higher brain functions."

"That's one hell of a relief." She smiles, tilting her head to one side. "Guess I've wasted my time rehearsing all those counterarguments then."

He chuckles. "We can argue if you like, but I'd rather say thank you. I haven't sprouted any Borg implants or tried to assimilate anyone yet. I'm just grateful you had the guts to make the tough decisions for me when I wasn't in a fit state to decide for myself."

"Well, now that's out of the way," Kathryn withdraws her hand from his and both hers go to her hips, "we come to the small matter of an illegal pet that you allowed a member of your crew to keep as a stowaway for seven years without informing me, Commander."

He ducks his head and his mouth twitches, but an explanation isn't immediately forthcoming.

"Well?" she waits expectantly.

He looks up. "All right. You've got me. I'm sorry. I should've told you."

"You should."

"But, in my defence-"

"Somehow, I knew there'd be a 'but'." Kathryn purses her lips, resigned.

Chakotay smiles. "You have to remember we didn't know what was going to happen to us when I ordered my crew to beam aboard _Voyager_. We could have been put off the ship – or spent months in the cargo bay under lock and key."

"Hmm. But it wasn't long before you must've felt your place on the ship was secure."

"You're right, of course. But, once things settled down, at first, I just forgot about FruFru. I had quite a lot on my plate in those early days with getting everyone to toe the Starfleet line. And by the time I remembered, well, by then, it was already a little late to be asking permission."

"I still think you could've just come clean," Kathryn chides. "I'm not an ogre, after all. I'd have understood."

"You would. I know that. But, by then, I actually figured it was in the best interests of the crew as a whole to allow her presence on board to remain a Maquis secret."

"How d'you work that one out?" Kathryn's tone is unmistakeably sceptical.

"In the early days, FruFru was good for morale. Because it meant the Maquis had something all of their own to organise around. Keeping her safe was a good way of diverting a little unused energy. Unused energy that might well've ended up starting trouble otherwise."

"That's one way of looking at it, I guess," Janeway raises an eyebrow. "A convenient way for a man who's avoiding an awkward conversation with his captain, that is."

"Guilty as charged."

Chakotay gives Kathryn a look that she suspects he used on his mother when he was a small boy. She has to admit it is kind of endearing…

"Actually," he goes on, "there are some positives to having her on board – in addition to her having saved my life, that is."

"There are? Enlighten me."

"Well, stroking tribbles is proven stress relief. At least that's what Rafael always claimed."

As he says this, it hits Kathryn how absolutely wonderful it is just to be able to stand here and listen to his familiar voice once again. She finds herself smiling.

"Does that mean that now you're part tribble yourself, you'll be able to offer specialist stress counselling as part of your duties?"

"No more tribble jokes. Seriously. I've only been conscious about an hour and everyone I've seen has been laying them on thick."

Janeway shoots him a sly sideways look. "So, you won't purr if I stroke you then?"

The colour rising up his neck to his ears, he growls, "Damn it, Kathryn, enough!"

[TBC]


	8. Chapter 8

After a reasonable night's sleep in sickbay and a morning of catching up with ship's business while the Doctor monitors him, _Voyager_ 's first officer talks the physician into letting him go up to the mess hall for lunch.

By fourteen hundred hours, Chakotay is sitting at the far end of the room, facing away from the door, hungrily polishing off the last of the unpronounceable main course. Earlier on, as he waited in the queue to be served, he found himself the centre of the attention of a constant stream of well-wishers.

Now that the lunch sitting has all but finished, the room empties out. His fellow diners, O'Donnell, Yosa and Dalby stand, take their leave – not without firing off one last tribble joke of course – and head back to work. Chakotay is finally left on his own in the corner to savour the peace and quiet. Rather suspiciously, he eyes the bright blue cake–like dessert he's yet to brave. _Blue_ , huh? It had to be, didn't it?

"May I join you while you finish your meal, Commander?"

He looks up into the face of Seven of Nine. He smiles. "Be my guest."

She takes a seat opposite him. She's arrived without a meal or a drink.

"Are you feeling well?" Her clear blue eyes hold genuine concern.

"Yes, thanks to you and the Doctor – and the tribble." Chakotay smiles again. Eyeing the blue 'cake', he breaks it into pieces and positions the plate between them. "Help yourself."

"No," Seven declines. "Thank you. The aroma is pungent."

He feels Seven's gaze on him as he shrugs, picks up a chunk and risks a mouthful. His taste buds should know better by now, but they're still surprised – it tastes of smoked cheese, with a hint of garlic.

"It's not so bad," he asserts. _Although why Neelix believes it should be served as dessert is anyone's guess._

Seven continues to watch Chakotay eat and he senses there's something on her mind. Just as he's about to ask her if there's anything he can do for her, she begins.

"Commander Tuvok believed that you would be angry that your wishes regarding the use of nanoprobes were disregarded. Was he correct?"

"No." Chakotay pauses, watching her face.

She appears to be listening intently.

"Things changed." He rubs the last few crumbs from his fingers, sitting back in his seat. "You had new information, and a new procedure. According to the Doctor, the risk was far lower."

"It was."

"I'll admit I still can't help feeling uneasy, knowing that even a small number of nanoprobes have been deep inside my brain."

"Would you rather we had left you without your higher brain functions and your memory?" Seven challenges immediately.

"No," Chakotay replies evenly. "I agree it was the right decision. But that doesn't change how I feel about it."

Seven's brow furrows slightly at this, but she says no more. Chakotay flattens his palms on the table, preparing to stand and suggest they make their way out now that lunch is well and truly over, when she speaks again.

"Commander, I believe we must revise our plans to play hoverball. It would be inadvisable for you to engage in such a physically demanding sport until you've fully recovered."

Chakotay nods in agreement. "True. I think I'll need a few days at least before I'm up to taking you on."

"I have selected an alternative activity."

"Oh?"

"I intend to familiarise myself with Earth. Would you care to join me on the holodeck to walk a section of the Camino Way? I presume you are familiar with this location. The section I have selected is described as an 'energetic hike'. Specialist climbing equipment isn't required. It will take approximately 1.2 hours."

"I enjoy hiking." Chakotay buys some time, as B'Elanna's unlikely sounding claims of the previous day start to come back to him.

"I know. I've sought advice about your interests and hobbies," Seven informs him.

He swallows. "That's very thoughtful of you."

Conscious that she deserves a direct answer, he's just about to speak when Seven goes on. "I would like to participate more in the social life of the crew."

"I'm glad. You know I've thought for a while that you should try socialising more."

"I haven't forgotten your advice." She pauses a moment, looking uncharacteristically unsure of herself, then something seems to attract her attention over by the serving hatch, and her eyes flicker over Chakotay's shoulder in that direction several times. A few seconds later she begins again hesitantly. "I've recently initiated more… friendly interactions with Lieutenant Torres and I'm finding it instructive."

"You and B'Elanna have a lot more in common than you might think."

Seven holds his gaze, apparently considering this. Then she continues.

"I've also selected you as an interesting individual with whom I would like to become better acquainted socially, if you find this acceptable."

"I'd be happy to get better acquainted, Seven."

"I don't require a romantic relationship at this time. Your appearance is aesthetically pleasing to me, but I am reliably informed that this need not hinder our interactions as prospective friends."

"I see." Chakotay closes his mouth, which he belatedly realises may well have been hanging open.

"I believe the expression Lieutenant Torres used was 'eye candy'."

He laughs. "Sounds like B'Elanna."

Now Seven's agenda is on the table, Chakotay finally relaxes. He shifts in his seat and rests his arm across the back of the chair to his left.

"Lieutenant Torres informed me that it isn't your custom to be offended by compliments relating to your physical attributes."

The idea of Seven and B'Elanna discussing him makes Chakotay chuckle, and he dips his head, shaking it a little before he replies.

"She's right." He meets Seven's focused gaze again. "In our tribe you were just as likely to have someone comment on your great legs as they would on your sense of humour. There wasn't much that was taboo when it came to interpersonal relationships."

"I find such a direct approach more efficient and less confusing."

"You and me both, Seven." Chakotay smiles, feeling a genuine warmth towards her.

"Is my invitation acceptable to you, Commander?"

"Yes. And it's _Chakotay_ off-duty. It's more than acceptable, Seven. A hike along the Camino Way sounds great. Spain is a very beautiful country and it's a historic walk."

Seven relaxes a little too now, sitting up very slightly less straight in her seat as she speaks again. "I had intended to attempt to invite you on a romantic date, but I've decided that I no longer wish to pursue a romantic attachment. Just contemplating it has proved unsettling."

Chakotay's eyebrow raises reflexively as he takes this in. "I can understand that." He nods, shifting again in his seat and finding himself taking another small piece of Neelix's garlic cheese 'cake'. "It certainly can be daunting."

Seven appears to be watching him intently again.

"I'm struggling with the concept of emotional attachment. It's hard to accept one's sense of emotional well-being as an individual could become so directly dependant on others."

Chakotay nods, but before he can reply she goes on, "When I attempted to consult the Captain it made her uncomfortable."

"Captain Janeway is very protective of you."

"You are correct. However, I don't believe that was the reason for her discomfort."

Then she appears momentarily distracted once more by something in the room behind him, before her eyes return to find his. "If I were to attempt to pursue a romantic attachment with you, I believe it would be to the detriment of my relationship with her."

Finishing his mouthful before he speaks and in doing so successfully masking his surprise, Chakotay rubs his hands together a few times. Seven has been talking to B'Elanna _and_ to Kathryn about him? Almost getting himself killed seems to have had some very unexpected repercussions so far, he muses. Either that, or the multiverse has accidentally deposited him in a slightly different reality and it's only just becoming apparent…

Interlocking his fingers, he allows them to rest on the table in front of him and forces himself to keep up his end of the conversation, at the same time as attempting to steer Seven away from specifics.

"It's true that developing strong feelings for another person can be unsettling. But with age and experience you learn that's a part of the challenge."

Seven looks more than a little sceptical.

Chakotay holds her gaze and smiles. "I can see we'll have plenty to talk about on our walk. Although, with a captive audience, an old man like me can go on a bit. You'll have to stop me if I start to lecture you."

Seven smirks. "If you offer irrelevant advice, I will stop you." Then, with her next words her tone is more serious. "I would value your opinion about one matter in particular, however."

"I'd like to help if I can."

"I've had some troubling thoughts about the reception that might await me if we are successful in reaching Earth. I've attempted to discuss them with Captain Janeway, but her instinct to protect me means that she seeks to alleviate my fears by dismissing them. I wondered whether you might be more likely to understand."

"As an ex-terrorist traitor to an ex-Borg drone, you mean?"

Seven looks suddenly lost – heart-breakingly vulnerable and almost childlike – as her confidence falters visibly. "I'm sorry if I've offended you."

"You haven't," Chakotay quickly reassures guiltily. "I'm the one who should be saying sorry. If we're going to be friends, the first hurdle you'll have to clear is probably my sense of humour. I've been told it takes a little getting used to."

Recovering her poise a little, Seven offers him a small and engaging smile. "I will try."

"And I'll willingly listen to your fears about getting back. Maybe I'll even share mine with you."

"I shall look forward to our walk, Chakotay." She stands.

"Me too."

With another small smile, she walks purposefully out.

Chakotay looks down and shakes his head a moment, sighing out an amused breath.

If he hadn't gone and gotten himself almost killed and consequently scared her off, it seems he would have found himself squarely within the sights of Seven of Nine. As it is, the spirits seem to have decided that their romantic relationship should take place in her head and that she'd only tell him about it once she's decided against it.

 _Probably for the best_.

Because if Seven had decided to pursue him and he'd allowed something to grow between them, it could never have flourished, healthy and strong. Whatever ill-advised desires took root within him long ago seek the light of a different sun. It would never have been fair on Seven. She'd only ever have gotten a fraction of the man she thought she wanted - only a fraction of his heart.

Even though he doesn't expect to be allowed to say the words out loud until Earth is within striking distance and he's an old man, Chakotay is self-aware enough to acknowledge that his heart made its choice several years ago. Despite the anguish and confusion, the joy and the contentment that this choice has caused him, it's no longer within his power to gift his heart in its entirety to anyone new. Perhaps one day he'll meet a woman who'd be content with what he's got left to give – but that's definitely not Seven.

He sighs, resigned.

_Probably for the best._

Seven deserves better.

XxX

a few minutes earlier…

Just after fourteen hundred hours, Kathryn enters the sparsely populated mess hall in search of coffee, or the closest Neelix has to offer. She's got through far too much coffee this week, and, with Chakotay out of action, every single cup has had to come out of her own account, which, predictably, has now flatlined.

At the serving hatch she finds B'Elanna cradling a steaming cup of what smells like pejuta. Her engineer greets her and Kathryn's eyes are soon drawn past her to the far end of the room, where she can see the back of Chakotay's newly greying head. Seated opposite him with her back to the wall is Seven. A second later, Seven looks up and her eyes briefly connect with Janeway's. Then a flicker of tension travelling Kathryn's spine causes her to shift around, angling herself towards the door rather than her protégé.

B'Elanna hands Kathryn the dark and viscous coffee substitute Neelix has already poured for her.

Focussing on B'Elanna, Janeway remarks conversationally, "It's good to see Chakotay up and about."

"Yes." B'Elanna sounds surprisingly unenthusiastic.

Kathryn raises an eyebrow in query.

B'Elanna looks away. "I just hope he's feeling like himself again."

Something in the younger woman's expression gives Kathryn pause.

"He seems like himself to me," Kathryn asserts, in a half questioning tone that invites a response, as she studies B'Elanna's face.

B'Elanna's big brown eyes shift away uneasily, causing the older woman to press a little.

"Are you worried about him for any particular reason, B'Elanna?"

The ensuring pause seems to be even more heavily pregnant than B'Elanna, and Kathryn waits as the half-Klingon holds her gaze.

It draws out further as B'Elanna sips her steaming drink before finally replying, "After that kind of experience, people sometimes make… rash decisions, you know?"

The look B'Elanna gives Kathryn seems to carry a lot more significance than her accompanying words.

"It can leave you vulnerable," the younger woman adds pointedly.

"If you're worried about him, you should tell him."

"Oh, I tried, believe me."

B'Elanna is still watching the couple in the far corner of the room, her expression tight.

"I just hope he isn't about to make one hell of a big mistake," B'Elanna mutters, her eyes finally flickering furtively back to meet Kathryn's for a fleeting moment.

Then, the young engineer takes her leave and strides briskly out.

Janeway finds herself turning just enough to take in the scene at the end of the mess hall. She quickly turns away again, inhales deeply and filters out her sense of disquiet, schooling her features and following B'Elanna out.

As she walks the corridor Kathryn is left wondering whether the winds of change are blowing those close to her onto a course that no one could have predicted - not even a Betazoid counsellor or a joined Trill whose symbiont had an interest in personal relationships lasting several lifetimes. And, even if her own feelings weren't involved, it'd be very hard to convince herself that what B'Elanna fears is about to happen would make anyone involved happy.

Chakotay is alive and well. Kathryn should still be elated, and she is, she _is_... But, somewhere deep inside a neglected part of her heart, what was once a small voice is growing louder, insistently demanding attention. "You're still going to lose part of him. Part of him you need," the voice says. "Find the courage and do something."

_After all, she who hesitates is lost._

[TBC]


	9. Chapter 9

Sickbay

"You're free to go, Commander," the Doctor announces, as he finishes his final scan. "I'm recommending you take another twenty-four hours before returning to duty and avoid strenuous exercise for at least a week. Other than that, you can pick up your normal routines."

"Thank you, Doctor. I'm grateful for all you've done," Chakotay replies, sitting up, then swinging his legs over the side of the biobed as he prepares to leave the surgical bay that's become his home this past crazy week.

"You're welcome," the EMH replies as he pulls back the curtains. "And I trust you'll be instructing Crewman Yosa that I am the best person to care for his pet's health needs from now on. I shall expect to see FruFru for a monthly check up at least."

"Very good, Doctor. I'll see to it."

"The Captain should be here any minute now."

Chakotay nods acknowledgment and the hologram heads back to his office.

Still sitting on the bed, Chakotay shrugs his way into a loose-fitting cream shirt that Kathryn kindly brought down to sickbay unsolicited. When Chakotay got back from lunch the Doctor told him he'd just missed her. She'd been in to leave some off-duty clothes and shoes for him that she'd pulled from his closet. Chakotay was touched by the gesture.

He begins doing up the shirt buttons from the bottom when the doors to sickbay swish open and Kathryn walks purposefully in with a noticeable spring in her step. She's out of uniform in dark pants and a cornflower blue close-fitting sweater Chakotay doesn't recognise.

He smiles at her and she comes over and stands facing him as he sits on the bed.

As his fingers speed up with their task, he can't help but notice that Kathryn is openly following their progress with her gaze – making him aware of his own body in a way that he hasn't been around her for a long time. He looks at her questioningly, but she just smiles a half-smile, licks those red lips of hers, and continues to watch him dress.

Thrown a little off balance, Chakotay tries to ignore the heat he feels rising up his neck. Once he's all buttoned up, he punctuates the task with a pat to his chest. He's about to shift forward to stand, when Kathryn takes him completely by surprise by moving a step closer so that she's standing pretty much between his legs, her hips only centimetres from his thighs, her head level with his.

"The Doctor tells me you're finally free to leave," she remarks, appearing perfectly composed, despite their unusual and disconcerting proximity. "He also said you haven't eaten yet this evening."

Chakotay's head tilts to one side and then he holds himself very still – stunned into silence by the distracting nearness of her compact, shapely form.

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear – her rather lovely, delicate ear that is now very close – and her faint perfume invades his senses. It's possible he's failing to keep the surprise off his face, because her lips curl into a smile. But it's hard to tell whether it's a nervous, hesitant smile or actually rather coy. Either way, he can't seem to avert his eyes from her face to give himself time to figure out exactly what's happening here.

Finally, he gets it together enough to reply. "You're right. I haven't eaten. The Doctor told me you were on your way. I presumed you wanted to see me, so I waited."

She continues to look at him with uncharacteristic intensity. "I do hope it wasn't too hard – waiting for me."

The hairs on the back of Chakotay's neck stand on end as she holds his gaze.

"I'm a patient man, Captain," he replies, low, expecting her to back off any second now.

Instead, her red lips twitch and he feels the air between them crackle. He watches as her fingers move to fiddle with her combadge.

"While you were out of action, I had time to think," she begins. "I've decided I'd like to revisit a conversation we had – a while ago now – a personal conversation. If you're still amenable, I'd like to suggest some changes."

Chakotay's brain stalls. "You want to make changes… to my duties?"

"Um, nooooh," she drawls. " _Personal_ , Chakotay, not personnel."

"Right." His pulse speeds up a little.

He struggles to think, but it's all too immediate – she's all around him – and before he's come up with anything, the pale hand that was toying with her combadge alights gently on his thigh to rest innocently there. They lock eyes, and what he sees in her dark blue gaze _really_ isn't helping him think.

"I was wondering whether you'd like to have dinner with me in that little restaurant in Tom's Venetian programme," she asks slowly and clearly in her distinctive mix of gravel and honey, maintaining eye contact all the time. "You remember it?"

His jaw drops. He's powerless to do anything else. He stares at her, his lips still slightly parted.

"Are you all right, Chakotay?" Concern clouds her eyes for a moment and she squeezes his leg as she leans in a fraction closer, her hips grazing his inner thighs for a split second.

"Yes. Of course." He pulls himself together, swallowing hard, and allows himself to look at her properly. She looks good. Very good actually. Her face is a little flushed, as if she's just had a soak in a hot bathtub, but there are no obvious outward signs of alien possession…

"So, is that a 'yes' or a 'no'?"

He detects the faintest hint of uncertainty in her eyes for the first time since she came in here.

"Yes. Of course I remember it," he finally gets out. "And yes, I'd love to have dinner."

The corners of her very red lips curl upwards, her face positively glowing.

"It's just a little… unexpected, that's all. But certainly not unwelcome," he adds hastily.

"Good." Her smile widens. "Shall we go then?"

"Now?"

"Now." She confirms, patiently, as if she's humouring him because he's a little… slow. Which, to be fair, he is right now. "No time like the present, I always say."

"You do?"

She beams back at him again, patting his thigh, then steps back and waits for him to shift forward off the biobed.

He stands rather awkwardly and self consciously, straightens his shirt, very aware he's still the centre of all her focused attention.

"After you," he says, gesturing for her to precede him.

Following close behind her as they make their way across the room and nodding to the Doctor in his office as they pass, Chakotay wonders whether he's imagining it, or whether there's just a little more roll to her hips than usual this evening. Then again, maybe it's just so long since he really let himself actually _look_ that he's forgotten.

As the doors to the 'lift open, his hand finds its way to the small of her back and he guides her in. Once inside, she stands beside him, only very slightly closer than usual.

"I'm glad you said yes, because I've already reserved the holodeck," she remarks casually, looking down at her fingers and interlacing them as she speaks. "And I've been looking forward to finishing the dance that was cut short the last time we were there."

Through the soft wool of her sweater he feels the muscles in her back flex, and he wonders if she's quite as relaxed as she appears. He smiles down at her, finally on the same page, he hopes.

"I can't think of anything I'd like to do more," he replies, allowing his hand to slide an almost imperceptible amount further down her lower back. "Then again…"

Turning to angle herself towards him slightly, she smiles a sultry lopsided smile. Then he watches transfixed as she taps his shirt with one of her elegant fingertips and then slowly scores a line down his chest, sending a shiver the length of his spine. "One step at a time, eh, Commander?"

"Absolutely, Captain," he replies softly, dipping his head to deliver his next words close to her deliciously delicate ear. "I intend to savour every single one."

[TBC]

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: All done! Thanks for reading.  
> \-----------------------------
> 
> Original AN from 2015:
> 
> This is was the prompt for [northernexposure](https://archiveofourown.org/users/northernexposure/profile) \- I said I'd post at the end, so here it is – it was a long one!
> 
> Late on, when P/T are already married. For some reason Chak's in engineering when something goes wrong. The warp core can't be ejected, it's going to explode, yadda yadda. Someone has to stop it, but it means certain death through radiation poisoning. B'Elanna's the obvious choice, but Chakotay can't let her sacrifice herself - a) because he loves her too much himself and b) because he knows how devastated Tom would be. She's connected now. He's not. So he gets her out of there somehow, locks himself in. Forces Janeway (cos B'E's unconscious, maybe) to talk him through powering down the warp core, which means she has to watch him dying in front of her, which also forces her to confront how she feels about him - and the fact that he thinks he doesn't have the kind of connection that B'Elanna does to Tom, to her. Of course there'll be some way of saving his life. No idea what. That's your job ;)
> 
> What a great prompt! The fact it turned into a long story was very unexpected, as I was feeling pretty empty headed when she sent the prompt over.
> 
> So - big thank you to northernexposure for the prompt, for the encouragement along the way and for beta reading this even though she's trying to kick the fanfic habit, and to [Photorgirl1890](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Photogirl1890/profile) for allowing me to benefit from her superhuman error-spotting talents, even though the JC bits probably made her want to reach for a sick bowl. And thank you very much to everyone who's left a review, I really appreciate the encouragement, it makes my day to hear other people enjoyed my efforts.

 

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Chapter 10

Kathryn wakes feeling warm, unusually warm – too warm actually. Before she opens her eyes, the memories of where she is come back immediately, and the fact she's overheating makes sense. She smiles to herself as it occurs to her that it'd be useful if Chakotay had a dial so she could turn him down a setting or two. Visits to various cold alien worlds over the past seven years have already taught her that he seems to have some sort of heat-retaining superpower, and now she knows that he heats up even further in sleep.

Kathryn has spent the last part of the night sleeping within his embrace, and his large, solid and very warm body is still spooning her. One of his arms stretches under the pillow her head is resting on. The other is slotted under her arm to rest comfortably across the top swell of her breasts, his fingers curled loosely around the wrist of her other arm. His breathing is slow and steady.

Kathryn gently lifts his arm from across her body, edging away just enough to slide onto her back and free herself from the tangle of the sheet. She rearranges it to let in some air. With her movement Chakotay stirs and mumbles something, shifting position to settle onto his back also, eyes still closed. When it's clear he isn't about to wake, Kathryn leans across to the nightstand on her side of the bed and lights the candle there. Then she props herself up a little with the pillows and watches the regular rise and fall of his broad chest.

He continues to sleep peacefully and the only sound is the familiar low hum of _Voyager_ 's engines far below them. Kathryn revels in the calm, collecting her thoughts from where they lie scattered across her mind in much the same way as she will have to collect items of her clothing from various locations in Chakotay's quarters later this morning.

As she rests there, it's as if time slows obligingly, offering her the chance to really look long and appreciatively – now that she finally feels entitled – at the man who has been at her side for many years.

In the candlelight, her gaze lingers on his face in repose, on each distinctive feature in turn – his flawless skin, the laughter lines around his eyes and mouth, those beautiful lips, his long dark lashes. The sheet is only half covering him and his bronze skin looks even darker in the dim light. Her eyes wander lazily across his broad shoulders and the contours of his muscled, hairless chest and his strong arms. Kathryn has the urge to let her fingers trail across his collarbone and down the valley between his pectorals, but she stops herself, not wanting to wake him and end this quiet moment. Looks have never been overly important to her, but she has always thought that if a man possessing the qualities she desires in a partner can possibly manage to be handsome _as well_ , then he definitely should.

Chakotay is a beautiful man, she decides, inside and out. She always suspected he was the full package – which was exactly what made him so dangerous. And now, it's pleasing to have this confirmed by such deliciously thorough research. Then again, after the way he made her feel last night, it's possible she's a little biased.

It's no exaggeration to say that no man has ever made her feel quite so wanted, so loved and so desirable; nor does she remember ever before feeling as willing or as able to make her own desires known on a first encounter. Then again, this was obviously no ordinary first encounter. Already possessing an intimate knowledge of so much about someone's personality proved extremely useful when it came to branching out into new means of communication. So much between them was instinctive. Kathryn had to remind herself it was just because he knew her so well that he was able to demonstrate such an unprecedented intuition for what would arouse and excite her. At one point – just after he'd mumbled "three is my favourite number," against her inner thigh – she was beginning to wonder whether there were more Maquis secrets he'd kept from her. Like the fact that he was actually a telepath – either that, or he'd set up covert surveillance equipment in her bedroom several years ago… Then again, she seemed to be more than capable of reducing him to a quivering mass with remarkably little effort, which was extremely gratifying.

As she smiles to herself, revisiting some of the other numerous pleasurable moments from the previous evening, she feels her body respond instantly. Kathryn is old enough and wise enough to know that in time this effect may fade a little, but she dares to hope that her memories of last night will blend into a wider landscape of equally powerful and precious memories that she and Chakotay will have the chance to make together now.

Holographic Venice had been a good idea – a very good idea. Alongside her still vivid and in some instances troubling memories of being there with him the first time, she now has fresh memories from last night. Memories of how handsome he'd looked in the clothes she'd selected (not that she has any ambition to select his clothes on a regular basis! But it was rather nice to be in charge just the once) and memories of the sense of anticipation that kept her intensely aware of their every grazing touch.

She thinks back to how his fingers had curled around hers when they stood side by side for a moment to take in the image of Venice before them when the holodeck doors closed. They had begun by taking things slowly, simply holding each other's gaze more often than usual and indulging in a little shameless flirting with intent over dinner.

When he asked her to dance, she stepped willingly into his arms. While they moved slowly together to the music, she felt his lips ghost her temple as he asked if she was really _sure_ she wanted to open the door to the possibility of more than friendship between them. She'd replied without hesitation, and he'd seemed content with that.

Then, despite her intention to take things slowly, it wasn't long before dancing with him just wasn't enough. It was Kathryn who'd pulled back a fraction, aligning her mouth just below his and looking up into his eyes. He held her gaze for a moment, then he slowly leant in and kissed her. After that, it would have taken some superhuman galactic force or divine intervention to keep them from their heated exploration of every little thing about each other.

 

Kathryn sighs a contented sigh and flexes her toes under the covers, wondering vaguely about coffee and whether Chakotay has any replicator rations left, when he stirs and opens his eyes.

XxX

He wakes to her face.

She's still here.

And she's already awake, lying next to him, watching him. Chakotay blinks a few times and pulls her closer. There's light in the room, as she's already lit the candle he keeps next to the bed.

"Good morning," she smiles.

"Good morning." He kisses her once, twice, taking his time. Because he can.

His body immediately seems to think it's time to follow through, but he isn't sure how she's feeling so he lies back, pulling her a little further across his side, where she fits perfectly. He smiles to himself, allowing his eyes to fall shut again.

Chakotay is struck by the fact that it ought to feel strange to be here with her naked body entwined with his. But it doesn't. It feels new. Very new. But also gloriously liberating and just... right.

Kathryn Janeway has the unparalleled ability to bring out the fire and the passion in him at the same time as filling the turbulent space at the very core of his being with a longed for sense of calm. Last night, when he'd finally fallen asleep, utterly spent and sated, it had been with this precious woman still in his arms. It was the first time he'd felt a sense of contentment than ran soul-deep since his peace of mind was shattered what feels like a lifetime ago now by events in the Alpha Quadrant.

When she came into sickbay and intimated that she was ready to lift the restrictions she'd imposed on their interactions, his heart had leapt, and then pounded in warning. The possibility that it might just be a knee jerk reaction to almost losing him, and that she would eventually change her mind had obviously occurred to him. But within a few seconds he knew that if even she did, he'd still take whatever she was offering in the here and now, and deal with the consequences later. It was a risk he was more than prepared to take.

Then he remembers his dream and opens his eyes. "I just had the strangest dream."

She moves to look up at him, resting her chin on his chest as her fingers map feather-light orbits on his skin. "The Borg weren't involved, I hope."

"Not a drone in sight, no."

"Good."

"I actually dreamt about FruFru."

"Really?"

"Yes. You were just telling me that she was descended from a tribble that had been brought here by Q from another timeline."

"Time-travel." Kathryn groans dramatically. "And Q!" She shifts, rearranging the pillows behind her and settling her head back on his shoulder. "And I haven't even had coffee yet."

Chakotay begins to gently caress her back.

Her head comes up again. _Does this woman never lie still?_

"And I was there too?" She sounds curious.

"Yes."

"You do know that's not really necessary any more, don't you? I mean, I'm right here, in your bed." He feels her hand slide down his side to come to rest on his hip.

He chuckles. "I like the way that sounds. Say it again."

"I'm right here, in your bed."

"You most definitely are." He turns to press his lips to her temple.

"So what was I doing in your dream?" she asks, her hand setting off on purposeful exploration from where it had been resting.

It's suddenly a lot harder to concentrate, but Chakotay is determined to tell her his bizarre dream before it fades from his hazy morning brain.

"You were just explaining to me that FruFru was descended from a tribble that was on the _Enterprise_ in another timeline. And the famous Dr McCoy – except he didn't look like Dr McCoy, although I knew he was – you know how it is in a dream?" She nods. "He'd injected this tribble with the blood of some arch criminal with an English accent."

Her hand stills. "That's one unlikely sounding dream."

"Crazy, huh?"

Kathryn laughs. "That reminds me, I didn't tell you what Tom said to me when we saw them on our way into the holodeck – while you were talking to Harry."

"Do I want to know?"

"I said we were going to have dinner in his Venice program, and he warned me."

"Oh?"

"He said you probably wanted to wine and dine me in order to lull me into a false sense of security; before you take over the ship with your secret army of Maquis tribble-drones."

Chakotay groans. "Guess I better move Mr Paris to the top of the assimilation list then."

Then Chakotay loses the ability to form coherent though let alone speak, a low sound escaping from his throat, as Kathryn begins to do agonisingly delicious things to him with that hand that went exploring a little while ago.

A few seconds later he recovers himself sufficiently to decide it's only fair that he should be allowed to reciprocate with some sweet torture of his own, so he shifts onto his side and slides his hand down her arm, his caress freeing her upper body of the sheet in the process. Planting open-mouthed kisses on her skin he makes his way from her elegant clavicle, taking his time, towards an invitingly available breast. She moves in response to his touch and he gently guides her arms up and over her head, affording him a wonderful view and better access.

"You really meant it about savouring every single step didn't you?" she says in a pre-coffee morning husk.

He tilts his head up for a moment to find her looking down at him, watching his progress.

"Absolutely," he mumbles against the side-swell of her breast, and he slowly approaches his target. She arches a little and a delightful noise escapes from somewhere deep in her throat as he inches his way ever closer. He releases his gentle hold on her elbow, slowly slides his hand down the underside of her arm to eventually cup her other pleasingly available breast, his thumb grazing the nipple while his mouth finally claims its prize. When she moans this time his lower body grinds reflexively into the bed and he loses himself in her again.

XxX

An hour or so later as they lie in each other's arms, Chakotay is just about to remark on how lucky it is the duty schedule doesn't have Kathryn on the early shift today when he notices that she looks lost in thought.

"You all right?" he asks.

"I'm fine."

"Something on your mind?"

"I was just thinking about Seven."

He frowns. "Are you worried about her?"

"When it eventually gets out that we're together, she may be upset."

"I think you'll find she's moved on."

"Really? So soon?"

"She came to see me after lunch yesterday. Said she'd decided against the idea of asking me on a romantic date."

"I see. Well, now that she's revisiting the idea of dating, she may decide to cast her net a little wider."

"Good point."

"After all, you know what they say – there are plenty more drones in the collective."

Chakotay laughs. "And they say my sense of humour is twisted!"

"I blame you. Being around you every day for all these years, it's rubbed off on me. Which reminds me," she says, as the hand that seems to like exploring appears on his stomach, then continues south. "It's high time I tested my theory."

"What theory?"

She rises out of the sheet, holding herself over him, completely and gloriously naked. She is nothing short of majestic in the candlelight. Then she nimbly manoeuvres herself to sit astride his thighs and her pale fingers continue their exploration.

"I told you," she husks, "that I can get you to purr if I stroke you right, Commander." Her determination to prove her theory seems to increase.

"Keep doing tha-aaah-at," he gets out, "and I promise I'll purr, bark, growl, maybe even hoot - whatever you want, Captain."

[The End]

 


End file.
